#its The Time Travel Show surely they can explain it SOMEHOW

[pl-ceh-lder]

if tua s4 doesn’t end with klaus having his soldier boy with all of his memories back and them being alive and safe and in love and living peaceful lives then what is even the point

#clown conference #tua klaus #klaus tua #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #tua s4 #dave katz #i just need him to be happy #its The Time Travel Show surely they can explain it SOMEHOW

[justawriterofthings]

Paying Pet a Visit

TW: 18+ pure smut. some degradation at the end. the king of overstimulation.

word count: 2,240

Author's note: I don't think i'll ever know when to stop. sorry it didnt turn out to be just a one shot.

*this is a second part to Mater's Little Pet but can be read alone.

Sukuna kept you in his domain for much of your time and it was just as much your choice as it was his.  Though he’d like to think it was only because he “commanded it.” You weren’t mad at this either, he kept you quite entertained.  Since your creation he spoiled the shit out of you, he wanted to make sure you never had a dull moment.  The man was glued to your side when he wasn’t off doing whatever the hell it was he did as King of Curses.  You never questioned; it didn’t matter to you.  However, you did question occasionally if he had made you that way or you somehow developed your own thought process.  These thoughts only ever lasted for a moment though, you were too content to think about the why.  You thought best to live in the moment.

“How’s my pet?”  Sukuna strolled through the doors, commanding the attention of the room right away was his style. He never had to make much effort in it.  He exuded power, so one couldn’t help but look.  

“Master!”  You jumped from you spot at your little desk, meeting to greet him.  He showed you a new book before casting it aside.  He clearly had other plans today.  “How were your travels?  Thank you for the gift.  Master, I was practicing what you taught me yesterday-“  You paused, unsure of how to actually explain any more.  “Just look!”  You held out your small slender fingers, red energy slowly started to flow from the tips down to your wrists then up to your elbows.  Focusing on the doorknob behind him, just barely visible behind his broad frame.  You flicked your wrist out in its direction, then melted it clean off the door, the wooden frame getting charcoaled in the process.

“Look at that.”  He praised, with a smirk not paying any thought to anything you’d said up until then.  Giving you a slow clap as he sauntered over to you.  The man was practically undressing you with his eyes.  He definitely had something on his mind, and it was making your core flutter in anticipation.   

“I’ve also been reading more; I think that’s what I really needed to get these damn words out instead of them all just jumbled all up in my brain.  It feels good to finally have a conversation with you, master.”  You sighed, falling back onto the small sectional sofa you asked to be put in the room you shared with him.

The long red silk robe you wore fell open and exposed your breasts slightly.  Sukuna went rabid.  He was straddling you, either knee pinning you in place.  His hands ripping open your robe completely.  The sound of a small tear of the ties caused you to frown lightly. 

“I’ll get you another.”  He waved it off, it was a casualty of living with him.  You couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t literally ripping your clothes off of you.  Your tits free, he was on them instantly.  His hands kneading your tender mounds, he leaned his head down and started to bite and lick one, and then the other.  Making sure to pay equal attention to both.  When his bites started to get rougher you gently guided his head up so that you were facing one another.  Your warm hands cupped either side of his face as your thumbs outlined his markings.  “At this point you owe me a few.”  You chuckled, leaning in and kissing him gently.  The energy you emitted, the completely opposite of his, you didn’t need to be so harsh and needy with your advances, after all he wasn’t going anywhere.   

Your gentle pace was rejected though as he pressed his lips to yours, teeth crashing as his tore his own clothes away.  “Always so rough, master.”  You giggled when you could get a breath in.  Your hands flew right down to his throbbing cock the moment it was free and he couldn’t make you speed up your pace even if he tried.  You were very much into taking your time after he so eagerly showed you he felt the opposite.  He knew this about you, it drove him mad.  When Sukuna fucked you it was always deprived and rough.  A few times you attempted to get him to slow his pace, just to see if he would enjoy, it but he never slowed long enough for it to even count as trying.  When he wanted something, he took it.

“What do you think you’re doing?”  He asked, watching you closely with a hunger that made you shudder in anticipation.  “Showing you how much you mean to me, master.”  You cooed, sliding down off the sofa and on to your knees, motioning for him to sit in front of you.  “Don’t you dare try to speed up either.  Just let me do my thing, okay?”  You asked, with all the seriousness you could muster, and knowing full well he wasn’t going to listen.  But he simply nodded in response, his hand gesturing to his impressive member, twitching and waiting for you. 

“Get to it.”  He commanded, propping his chin up with his hand waiting patiently. 

Maybe he will listen to me this time.  You thought as you pushed your hair back, not wanting it to get in the way.  Sukuna’s had was fisting it up in a mess on your head before you could try to actually pull it back.  His fingers digging in a little to make you wince.  His sadistic smile plastered on his face told you he was indeed not going to listen to you again. 

Not wanting to waste anymore time, you did as you were told and stuck out your tongue to lick from his base to his tip, ever so slowly.  Once your lips were near his tip, you swirled your tongue around a bit before suckling just the tip again.  His hips jerked up to try to get you to fully take him but you pressed your hands down on his hips, stopping him.  He let out a frustrated growl at your action, but didn’t try again.  He let you continue with a moan of defeat. 

You gave him a light pat on the thigh to show your gratitude for not trying again and sucked him down to the base as a reward.  You felt him forcefully suck in a breath as you did so.  Letting out an exasperated “fuuuuck” on his exhale.  His little noises and grunted curses drove you wild.  You in turn let out a whimper of your own at the sound of his pleasure.  Just hearing him make those noises because of you could make you come undone almost instantly.

The hand fisting your hair tightened as he pushed your head down, guiding you at his own paces with a maniacal chuckle.  As you suspected, it didn’t last long.  You eagerly took all of his cock with every thrust .  Gurgles and moans of ecstasy muffled through your drool and precum dripping lips.   

He didn’t let you continue however, before he was pulling you up and bending you over the back of the sofa, your most intimate parts exposed.  His fingers not taking any time before they were inside you.  Curling to hit your spot every time, he knew exactly where it was and he loved overstimulating you that way.  It didn’t take you long before you were on the edge, he was so in tune with you, the slightest clench made him pull back.

“Not yet.”  He snarled, giving you only a second to register his comment, then his fingers were three knuckles deep again.  “If you fucking cum, you’re going to regret it.”  His voice was dripping with venomous arousal.  Adding another digit, he did not relent until you were trembling again.  Right on that edge he pulled his fingers out of your wet cunt with a slick pop.  You whined at the loss, wiggling your ass in hopes that’d be enough of a bribe to give you what you wanted.  He simply slapped it in response.  The loud smack definitely left a mark.  You let out a yip at the unexpected contact. 

“Not going to work.”  He tsked.  You thought for a moment that he probably knew your plans before you even did.     

Before you could make any sort of comment, his fingers were back inside you, but now you felt the hot tickle of his breath.  “Pulling out all the tricks, my king?”  You purred at the thought of him greedily eating you out.  You clenched tightly around his fingers again at the thought.  This time though, he didn’t pull them free but continued to increase his pace and pressure.  “Ah ah, don’t you dare fucking cum.”  His words vibrated against your throbbing pussy.  The arousal in his voice sending you over the edge, screaming as hot liquid flowed into his waiting mouth, his fingers still working your desperately sensitive bundle of nerves.  “What did I just say?”  He asked between licks, cleaning up every last drop of the mess you just made.

You had no words, only incoherent babbles as your face heated in embarrassment and pure bliss.

When he finally pried his face off of you, his fingers went back to work.  His other hand firmly gripping your hip.  “For not listening.”  He growled, his pace just as fast.  He wasn’t giving you any time to rest and this had you melting into oblivion.

It didn’t take long to be right on the edge again.  This time he did pull his fingers away but it was only for a second and then he was balls deep with a grunt.  You let out a surprised and very lewd sounding “fuuck” through a wince, having no time to adjust to his girth. 

Three hard thrusts was all it took before you were seeing stars and coming undone beneath him again.  “Pet, what did I tell you.”  He started up his pace, not giving you any moment of rest as you came around his cock.  Trembling and mumbling on incoherent curses as he continued his onslaught on your slick hole.  Weightless in his arms he was able to flip you on to your back on the couch, his hands pinning you down at the hips as he continued his onslaught on your pussy.  “I wanted to see your pretty eyes roll back into your pretty skull.”  His voice being what sent you over this time; cumming again, this time almost pushing his cock out from the force of your release.  His fingers ground into your hips as he continued, not letting up on his pace.  “You think you can try to push me away?”  His fingers were gripping so deep his nails were drawing blood. “I’m not fucking done.”

You tried shaking your head no to answer him, the only sounds escaping you now were moans and screams of pure bliss.  “Yes, fucking scream for me.  Louder now, little slut.”   

Your eyes flew open, that was new.  You liked that.  Your grinned like a god damn fool at the new, albeit degrading nickname. 

“You like that?  You are a slut, only suits you’d like being called one.”  His merciless pounding of your overstimulated cunt paired with the new dirty talk was really doing its number on you.  Exhaustion creeping in over the pleasure.  “Ah, not until I’m finished.  Then you can sleep all you want.” He slowed then, that got you focused on him now, pushing back any hint of exhaustion you felt. 

“That got you.”  He laughed, his thrusts now deliberate and hard.  Balls deep every time, hitting your g spot.  They weren’t fast but they weren’t painfully slow either.  He was truly going the pace you strived for.  One your love struck brain compared to “making love” and not just the ruthless fucking he was so in to. 

Your cunt so tight around him, he was being just as loud, if not louder than you now.  “Milk my fucking cock.”  He grunted, continuing the pace that had you trembling beneath him, “that’s it.  Fucking cum for me again.” 

You did, screaming his name as you gripped him arms and rode out your release on his cock.  This action sent him over the edge.  The act of you using his cock, grinding on him that way had him cumming inside you.  Gasping as you felt his hot thick load coat your walls.  The pair of you moaning as your releases synchronized. 

He stayed inside you.  “Not wasting a drop.”  He murmured in your ear nibbling your ear lobe and down your neck.  He thrusted lazily a few times before pulling out completely.  You sighed at the loss.  Though now exhaustion hitting you like a freight train you were ready to pass out right there.  Sukuna saw your eyes drifting and decided to pick you up and place you in bed.  To do this though, he threw you over his shoulder then threw you back first on to the mattress.  With a nod that he had done his job sufficiently, he left you to rest.  You heard the door lock behind you as he left.  He fixed the doorknob just to lock it. You snickered and shook your head at the albeit controlling action.  You knew it was so no one could get in, rather than you not getting out.  The thought of the sentiment plastered a grin on your face as you drifted in to a well-deserved nap.  Post release bliss and fatigue knocking you out like a light.

#reader insert #reader #fanfic #smut #heres the smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk sukuna #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #master/pet #sexy times #jjk smut #oo kinky #sukuna smut #18+ only #fanfiction #fanfiction blog #reader insert fic #master sukuna #pet reader #jjk x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna #consent implied

[thelostgirl21]

Okay, I felt like this post (by @panur & @underthebluerain) deserved some visuals, so people could really understand and truly appreciate just how dramatic the difference in body sizes and shapes between these two gorgeous, absolutely lovely men, is!

And just how skilled the costume design team is, on the show, when it comes to giving the illusion that a character is much smaller (in Jaskier's case) or much larger (in Radovid's case), than their actors actually are.

There was an incredible post, a while back, that really explained how those wizards work their magic!

And it's utterly fascinating!!! Seriously, if you haven't read all of that yet, I highly suggest you go and take a look!

But yeah, when you look at the way their clothes have been designed this season, there's definitely been some attempt to make Jaskier look generally smaller than Joey Batey really is, while making Radovid look generally bigger than Hugh Skinner really is, too.

A few examples (with my extremely humble interpretation / things that have grabbed my eye when I look at their costumes. Please bear in mind that I am but an humble fan with no experience in costume design, so there's probably tons of stuff I've missed, and/or I might have misinterpreted some of those designers' intent):

Then, of course, there's Radovid's cloak that just... triples his size or something!

So, when you look at them side by side with their clothes on (even without the cloak), there really doesn't seem to be such a huge difference in body size and shape between the two.

Why are they so pretty though?

Like yeah, you do get the sense that Radovid might be a bit leaner, and that he has a longer torso, perhaps, but it's not THAT dramatic of a difference...

As soon as you get them out of their costumes, however...

On that last gif, you can really see that Joey's roughly the same height as Henry Cavill, and get the sense that he'd probably fit really well in a Witcher's armor, too!

Technically, their heights are listed as: - Henry Cavill: 1,85cm (6 ft 7/8 in) - Hugh Skinner: 1,83cm (6 ft) - Joey Batey 1,82cm (5 ft 11 5/8 in)

So, Joey's like 1 1/8" smaller than Henry and 3/8" smaller than Hugh.

Since I'm ½" taller than my own partner and virtually never realize it, I doubt they'd notice that 3/8" difference between them.

But yeah, one of the really funny "side effects" of costume designers being so good at their job is when you somehow manage to forget about it while watching the show and then this happens:

and your brain needs a moment to re-calibrate its settings because you're like "Right! Buff bard! Right... 6 feet tall really strong looking damsel in distress that keeps complaining Geralt could break him like a twig, when it would be something closer to splitting a log!"

Makes you wonder if people in Jaskier's family are just... naturally muscular or something (lots of fast-twitch muscle fibers?!)?

Because, while Joey is apparently into climbing, kick boxing, swimming, fencing, medieval sword fighting, etc.

Jaskier complained about needing to walk down the path of a mountain on his own, because his fancy boots kept sliding.

He does a lot of traveling and walking, sure... But that doesn't really help you develop your upper body / pectorals / arms, etc. in such a way!

Unless he just... likes the way those muscles aesthetically look on him?

You know, I really wouldn't put it past him, now that I think about it...

Over the years, Jaskier has just developed his very own calisthenics workout routine to build and maintain his looks, but feels the need to hide it.

Because "body fitness" is not exactly a popular discipline on the Continent at that time.

People tend to train to learn how to fight, or develop muscle mass while working the land or their craft, not because "they like the way those muscles look on them when taking their clothes off!"

So, Jaskier wears clothes that hide his actual body shape, since he's afraid that, if people saw and noticed how built he really is, then they'd just assume he knows how to fight and defend himself, when he doesn't.

People might stop shoving him out of harm's way, pulling him behind them to stand between him and the danger, coming to his rescue, etc.

And, since Jaskier's whole ongoing survival sort of depends on people spontaneously stepping in to save his sorry arse, well...

In the bedroom, however, the added bit of upper body strength and endurance does wonder when you want to be able to fuck someone against a wall while keeping their feet off the ground (for example).

Being able to lift and carry more than your own weight definitely has its advantages...

As Radovid has no doubt found out...

And, if the prince turned out to be a bit lighter and easier to carry around than Jaskier was initially expecting him to be, you definitely won't hear him complaining, either!

Although, I must admit that part of me also likes the idea that they might have been able to accurately "size each other up", so to speak.

Radovid's just there looking at all the lines and proportions on Jaskier's pants and shirt, while figuring out where his shoulders and arms actually stop underneath; being both fascinated by the actual size of Jaskier's body, and the choice of clothing design that's making him look much smaller than he appears to be (if his calculations are, indeed, correct)...

While Jaskier's just looking at all those layers covering Radovid, while attempting to get a rough estimate of the total naked weight underneath, and for how long he could keep him lifted... Hypothetically... For science...

But even there, there's a huge difference between knowing those clothes are playing with your perceptions and briefly getting a mental glimpse of what you think might be closer to the truth... And actually gazing upon or getting your hands all over said truth!

Because sincerely, no amount of me trying to look at this while attempting to make abstraction of the whole illusion created by the clothing design:

is successfully going to be able to make me see this:

Hence why I tend to forget about it, and need a moment to re-calibrate almost every single time Jaskier winds up getting shirtless!

Seriously, just look at the bottom gif of him shirtless, then at the top where he's got his clothes on a few times, one after the other, and try to tell me that you're able to visualize where all of that body at the bottom is managing to fit in there at the top!

It's like part of it literally went missing!

So, even if Radovid had managed to guess that Jaskier was a lot buffer than his choice of clothing was letting on, and vice versa, I'm thinking they'd still have been in for quite a bit of a surprise when they actually got each other's clothes removed!

Therefore, that headcanon would still work, regardless of Jaskier and Radovid having guessed that each of them used their clothes to make themselves appear less threatening, or more imposing than they really are.

#Jaskier #Radovid #Radskier #Joey Batey #Hugh Skinner #Costume design #My thoughts #Other awesome people's thoughts #My Posts #My Stuff

[quimichi]

Hello! This is my first time asking so forgive my mistakes,

I don’t know if you’ve done this before but could you do headcanons for a reader who’s lumine’s traveling partner and when their in liyue (I don’t remember how it’s spelt 🥲) Qiqi randomly starts addressing them as her parent, uhhh what’s the reaction of the liyue crew (who kinda have feels for reader) when reader just accepts it and calls her their daughter

Gosh that was long, yea that’s my ask sorry for the mistakes 😅 you don’t have to do it if you’re busy

-Honey Anon

. . . . ╰──╮BEING QIQI'S "PARENT" ╭──╯ . . . .

PLATONIC!Qiqi x GN!Reader

¡! ❞ having qiqi refer to you as her parent, which is clearly not the truth, is a situation you needed to get used to

¡! ❞ but no wonder she thinks you're her parent when you take care of her. Yes, Baizhu does too but you somehow manage to not order her around and rather gently guide her and help. (Not like baizhu would mistreat her or anything!)

¡! ❞ you always remind her to take her notebook with her, on her worst days she may forget it to take it. On the absolute worst days she even forgot where she put it. Luckily you always remember

¡! ❞ awww look at you always packing her lunch for when she works at bubu pharmacy. And the lunch always includes coconut milk, thats very important

¡! ❞ you know she can't taste anything, but she can feel textures and temperatures, so her lunchbox may look weird to people who dont know. You always try your best to pack in every food she likes the texture or temperature of

¡! ❞ I don't really know if she needs to eat and drink but--pls it's to cute

¡! ❞ Qiqi also looooves to pick herbs with you! She can't really show emotions but having you by her side all day long really makes her feel "better". With you she feels like she can't forget anything

¡! ❞ she read in books how parents act with their children, and this is what you do with her. So obviously you must be her parent!

¡! ❞ she's proud of that conclusion tho

¡! ❞ she mostly stays over at your place, sleeps with you all cuddled up in her parents arms. Its cute, really

¡! ❞ she's stuck with you, or you're rather with her but who would complain about little cute qiqi being glued to your side?

¡! ❞ Lumine and Paimon also find it adorable, weird at first but it's cute. Paimon tried once or twice to explain qiqi that you are indeed not her parent but Lumine always stops her. Crushing a little zombies dreams like this is not what they want.

¡! ❞ but they're happy for you and sometimes even join in, in the herb adventures if they have time

¡! ❞ Baizhu on the other hand was not surprised at qiqi calling you her parent. (Considering he probably was the one who gave her the books where the most basic human stuff was written down so she would remember or know) Theres not much that can surprise him. But hes sure also very happy. At first he was worried, you could hurt her or play around with her forgetfull mind. But you didn't, you helped even more and then he was relieved. What a relief no he doesn't have to poison you---

¡! ❞ and after more time spend with you and qiqi together he understood why she feels this way. Youre patient, caring and supportive. Like a good parent should be. Hes even prouer when qiqi seemed to have thought you some things about herbs. It was for sure a accident she did but now you can even help around in Bubu pharmacy with little to no struggle

¡! ❞ not Baizhu realizing he caught feelings after a few months. Panic--like this was not his intention at all-

¡! ❞ but Zhongli was definitely warm around he heart. What a nice and caring person you must be that a child will call you their parent. He already was interested in you before but now---

¡! ❞ Qiqi calling you her parent was a big gossip in Liyue once, everybody knew or talked about it and it also came to the ears of Ningguang, Keqing and Ganyu. All three of them are taken aback by the cuteness overload of it all. Although Ganyu was more open to show how soft you made her feel with you parently behavior

¡! ❞ whenever Ningguang is in Liyue she will pay Bubu pharmacy a visit just to see you two acting along. She might even give you some Mora for Qiqi like a sugar mommy--but mostly because her heart is aching for you and your attention-pls visit her in the Jade palace too, you might also bring Qiqi along for a evening tea! Be careful to not let her fall down tho---

A/n: getting the others involved was very hard to do and didn't truned out this well but--yeah

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin qiqi #qiqi genshin impact #qiqi #qiqi x reader #Platonic! Qiqi

[buymeanewlaptopty]

Dos X Batman crossover

So Tim Drake is planning on exploding Ras al ghuls base. And after many sleepless nights (as usual) gets in his sleep-deprived brain, the brilliant idea to summon the God of explosions. Cause why not? It would be way quicker and more efficient than to get all the explosives himself. Young Justice being the enablers they are just support him, cause Tim is the smartest Robin, he was trained by Batman, surely he knows whats up and what are the chances even that actually works??

And they do some summoning ritual from a Sus book Tim found on his travels (when Bruce was stuck in the time stream). And tbh Tim is mostly doing it for sht and kicks but THAN

BAM the summoning is actually working. There is a bit of panic (lots) but then the one who appears is a lil girl. Younger than all of them it seems. Can't be more than 14/15. And she's just like 'sup' (shikako is starstruck cause WHAT??? IS THAT RED ROBIN?? THE BEST ROBIN ??? AND IS THAT YOUNG JUSTICE?? WHAT IN THE WORLD??), cause she's a ninja and she can keep her cool under any weird circumstances and to be fair getting summoned isn't all that surprising with her track record.

The hero team explain that they summoned her. And shikako asks how (assuming she speaks English even though it's been a lifetime ago)? And they show this ritual where Tim made some adjustments to summon the God of explosions (which was basically a seal that Shikako will decode later). Shikako says on instinct/autopilot that she isn't a goddess. She is a bit mortified cause omgomgomg she can never let this be known to Sasuke or Kakashi or Anyone really. She would never hear the end of it.

They talk some more and Shikako asks why they need explosions and Tim explains his situation. And shikako is completely on board like hell yes let's fk up the creepy stalker. And she shows she can make explosions with a touch. And they go on and basically egg Ras base with explosions and its a great time.

After that Shikako stays for a while cause it takes time to find her home dimension and decode the summoning ritual. She is the closest with Red Robin cause he's her(mine) favourite Robin. And they can totally geek out over her seals and technology and differences in their worlds and all that. They both have that single minded drive where they just get lost in their research. And shikako would totally explain her seals to Tim and he could like give suggestions.

Once they didn't come out of their research drive for 3 days, it would have been longer if Superboy didn't drag them out of the room for some food that wasn't caffeine or soldier bars (or whatever I forgot the name)

In the end she leaves but she lets them know that if they ever need her for whatever reason they can summon her again.

~

Afterwards when Tim summons her again and explains the problem. Shikako is like I have just the thing and she has this very weird and very convoluted plan.

But it works.

And they realize that explosions isn't the only thing she can do.

So they begin to call her for other things to and shikako always has a (convoluted) plan that usually works (and if if doesn't then she has a plan that will)

And she can also heal??? So like an on call healer which is great!

But when shikako goes on a mission or isn't available she will let it know through a message (somehow, via seal or via interdimensional technology or maybe a combination)

Sometimes the summons are just to catch up.

And just imagine how the Bats would react. Like there is some seemingly impossible problem/villain and Tim be like 'I know a god' and just summons Shikako from his instant-summon-seal and there Shikako is in all her glory, in her pjs with her blanket still on.

And just has all contingency plans ready for all situations.

Batman has the adoption papers ready and filled by the end of the crisis. But shikako already has a lovely family🤣 so she rejects the offer.

I NEED MORE SHIKAKO DC CROSSOVERS😭😭

Anyways lemme know what u think

#expecting explosions but getting convient natural disasters #dreaming of sunshine #nara shikako #shikako nara #tim drake #batman x dos #dos x batman #shikako in DCU

[wheels-of-despair]

Worth It | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist

{<-Previous} [Seven Dreadful Days] {Next->}

Summary: Ralph has to go away for a few days, and neither of you are sure you'll survive your time apart. Words: 1.6k

Ralph liked Mondays, because on Mondays, he got to reunite with the love of his life after two long days apart. And after several days of being sick and bed-bound, he was even more eager to resume regular meetings in the park. Desperate to get out of his room, he bathed and dressed early, then headed down for breakfast.

He was nibbling on a piece of fruit and listening to Victoria ramble about a party he'd missed that weekend when Langley came in with a tray of mail. Victoria went through each piece, tossing them aside when they appeared uninteresting, until she found one that caught her eye. She ripped into it with a letter opener.

"Oh, Cousin Madge is getting married! Who would marry that fat cow? This must be a mistake. Surely Uncle Hal sees that this suitor is only after the family fortune!" She looked at Ralph expectantly, waiting for him to echo her sentiments, but he merely shrugged. Turning back to the invitation, she continued relaying its contents. "The wedding is to be held on Saturday… well they haven't given us much notice! I wonder if she's already pregnant? Not that anyone would be able to tell!"

Ralph sits silently, remembering that he'll need to return to his room to fetch your book of fairy tales before meeting you in the park today. He'd finished the whole thing, even re-read the ones you read to him, and was eager to discuss his favorites.

"Ralph!" Victoria snaps. "Are you listening? I said we'll leave tonight, and come back on Monday. It says they'll have a hundred guests and numerous activities, all week long!"

"Tonight?" Ralph asks.

"Yes, Ralph!" She points at the postmark on the tattered envelope. "It was mailed weeks ago, it must've gotten lost. I'm so glad it found us in time, this shall be great fun!"

Ralph somehow doubted that.

"I have some news…" Ralph began hesitantly. You untangled yourself from him, sitting back to pay attention. It had been a warm reunion, as all Mondays were, but you were both exceptionally happy to be back on your bench where you belonged. Not that you'd minded cuddling with him in his bed, although you hoped next time, it wouldn't be because he was sick.

"I have to go away for a while," he said, looking at you apologetically. You tried not to show your devastation over losing him for even a single day. "Victoria and I have to travel north for a cousin's wedding."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Seven days."

"Seven days," you repeat, heart already feeling heavier.

"We leave tonight."

"Tonight?" you ask breathlessly.

"The invitation got lost in the mail, it wasn't delivered until today. I don't particularly want to go, but it's expected of me. I'd much rather stay here with you," he explains quickly. You nod in understanding.

You hadn't spent more than two days apart from him since Valentine's Day. How are you supposed to cope with seven Ralphless days? He holds your hands in his, and leans his forehead against yours.

"Do you remember, when I was sick, you said that one day you'd never have to leave me again?"

"Yes," you whisper, willing the tears in your eyes to not spill over.

"It's all I can think about," he whispers back. "Perhaps when I return… we'll finally tell everyone? If I survive this week, I'll never want to spend a single day away from you ever again."

You pull back and stare into his big brown eyes, genuine and full of love. Unable to find words, you nod. His face breaks into a grin and he pulls you closer. You quite liked the thought of never having to say goodbye to your Ralph ever again.

Victoria was having the time of her life. She'd spent most of her time at the wedding with her tongue down a man's throat. A man who was probably a distant cousin, but if Victoria didn't care enough to find out, Ralph didn't either. He wanted to go home. Someone was waiting for him. Someone who would be happy to see him again. Someone who loved him. He smiled. Ralph smiled a lot these days.

While the other wedding guests played croquet and gossiped over tea and whatever else guests do at a week-long wedding, Ralph sat by himself and thought about you. What were you doing now? What were you reading? Had those mysterious flowers near your bench bloomed yet? Had you identified them? Did you miss him? He happily allowed these thoughts to consume his every waking moment, and was even happier when you appeared in his dreams as well.

He knew there was no sense in sending you letters, because he'd be back home before they arrived - and what if they were intercepted by your mother? - but he wrote them anyway. He found that when he appeared to be busy writing, people left him alone with his thoughts. He poured out his heart into pages that seemingly filled themselves. He'd give them to you when he returned.

The day before the wedding, a servant approached him.

"Sir?" Ralph looked up with a glare, wondering who would dare disturb his letter-writing.

"I have a letter for you, sir." Ralph accepted the envelope with confusion… and then his heart nearly burst.

You'd written him. He'd only been gone a few days, and you'd written to him. He ripped into the envelope and pulled out several pages covered in your handwriting. He caught a whiff of your perfume on the paper. He wasn't sure whether to read them or hug them, but opted for holding them close while reading them.

My Dearest Ralph,

I started writing this letter as soon as I walked in and sat down, and plan to mail it first thing in the morning, in hopes that it finds you in time.

I know we've only just parted, but I didn't want you to think I'd forgotten about you. I promised to pine, and pine I shall. As soon as I finish writing this letter. For now, I am happy and filled with thoughts of being with you again.

My life has taken quite a turn since that fateful Valentine's Day dance I didn't even want to attend. I never thought I'd feel this way about another person, let alone one who'd been right under my nose for so long. I lie awake at night and wonder, if we had talked sooner, would we be married by now? Would I be there with you, instead of alone in my childhood bedroom?

I have felt more happiness during these last few weeks with you, than in all my life before. You are my first thought upon waking, and the last thing on my mind before drifting off to sleep. I eagerly await a time in which you will be there, beside me, always.

You are the most wonderful person I've ever known. (And the most handsome!) You are sweet, you are kind, you are funny and clever and generous. I have never experienced a dull moment with you. I don't think such a thing exists. You are such a force of life, just being near you may be enough to sustain me. Never change, Ralph, and never listen to anyone who says you're anything short of perfect. They are wrong. (Especially Victoria. Please refer to this letter if she says anything mean to you while you're away.)

Now that I know your love, I don't know how I'm going to live without you, even for seven dreadful days. I fear this time apart will break me. Should I perish, know that I loved you more than life itself, and that I demand that you mourn me for at least one full year before moving on. If you move on too quickly, I shall haunt you forever.

I've decided to continue going to the park each day, though it won't be the same without you. Word of your sudden departure has spread, and I fear Mother and Father may connect the dots if my dear Mary happened to disappear the same week you did. No, I shall go, and sit on our bench alone, and spend my afternoons writing to you. I won't bother sending more, as they probably won't reach you in time, but I'll give them to you when you get home. An official record of my pining. I take my promises very seriously, Mr. Penbury.

I came up with a plan for Operation Ruin My Mother's Life over the weekend - and it's quite a good one, if I do say so myself - but didn't want to waste our last day together talking about that. I seem to recall my lips being otherwise occupied anyway.

I'll check the train schedule this week, and will be at the station to greet you when you arrive. The thought of delaying our reunion by even a minute makes me want to throw myself down the stairs. I'll be there waiting, but I warn you: It is quite possible that once I get my arms around you again, I'll never let you go.

I shall continue missing you terribly, until you're back with me where you belong. Then we'll break the news, and never be forced to suffer like this again. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you.

All my love,

A lipstick mark was left instead of a signature. Ralph lifted the page to his lips and kissed it back, imagining you were here with him. No one had ever said such nice things to him before. And you were writing to him every day as well, just like he was for you! He had half a mind to hire a car to take him home immediately.

But he stayed. It was only three more days. And then, you'd never have to be apart for that long ever again.

#writings of despair #ralph is worth it #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury x reader #ralph timewasters

[consanguinitatum]

David Tennant's Obscure Performances: Sweetnightgoodheart and its time traveling release date(s)

Heya all you David Tennant fans! I'm back with a small thread about a 2001 short film which David starred in called Sweetnightgoodheart (hereafter called SNGH).

SNGH was 9:16 in length. It was written and directed by Dan Zeff and produced by Litmus Productions in association with Bliss.com films for BBC Films. Its original title was Sweetnight Goodheart (with the two words separated) but somewhere along the way, the words were connected.

More about the title, this time from the BFI: "This entertaining short film takes a lighthearted look at the anxiety of modern relationships. The mix up of the title - a play on the familiar WWII song 'Goodnight Sweetheart' - highlights the confusion and miscommunication that is the film's premise."

Now, although I just said it was released in 2001.....if you look at the IMDb entry above very closely, I'm sure you've noticed it says 2005.

This, my friends, is wrong. And I'm about to prove it.

According to the British Film Institute, SNGH was one of the short films which made its premiere in August of 2001 at the Edinburgh International Film Festival. It was a nominee for Short Films. It also screened at the 45th Regus London Film Festival as part of their Urbania Shorts slot in November of 2001, and was a nominee for Short Cuts & Animation.

Sooooo.....unless David and everyone involved with the project are all time travelers and they somehow filmed the short in 2005 but took it back to 2001 to show at the festivals?....well, you get the picture.

After SNGH's premiere at the two festivals, it was sold to HBO and Cinemax. It was broadcast in the USA (and yes, you read that right!) on Cinemax beginning in August of 2002. It was shown every couple of months or so until July of 2004. It was first aired on HBO beginning in March of 2003 and was broadcast intermittently until June of 2004. Judging by the broadcast listings, it appears both networks used it as short "filler" material in between their full-length movie offerings. And after those two stopped airing it, PBS in the USA then aired it as part of its Imagemakers series in September of 2005. Here are some newspaper blurbs (with the newpaper titles and dates above them) to prove these broadcasts occurred:

Further proof? On Valentine's Day of 2009, the BFI screened SNGH with its other main features. That screening's entry for the short also says it was released in 2001.

I wanted to find out why IMDb would say 2005, so I poked around a bit. Oddly, its release date information specifies "Hungary" (okaaay?), while sources elsewhere have the 2005 date noted as the date of its "world premiere". The Hungary release date might well be accurate, but I'm not sure exactly what world premiere means...besides, it's obviously an error (since we've already shown it aired in the US in 2002 through 2004). So I think we can safely cross out 2005, don't you?

But ohhhh, we're not yet done on the dates, because some sources also give a release date of 2003! This date, however, is much easier to explain. The 2003 date originates from its initial broadcast on BBC2. It aired as a part of a 50-minute program called Ways To Leave Your Lover (hereafter called WTLYL) at 11:20 pm on 25 March 2003. WTLYL featured five 10-minute short films with a common thread - the end of love. in addition to SNGH, the other four films were Stag, Dog, Unscrew, and Dumping Elaine.

So...now that we've taken care of the date mix-up, let's get into the short itself!

SNGH starred David as Pete, and Kate Ashfield - who he would also go on to star with in a 2002 audio drama called The Island and in 2005's Secret Smile - as Juliet. It also starred Diana Hardcastle as Anthea, Cliff Parisi as Colman, and Thusitha Jayasundera as Yasmin. Here is the archived BBC press release for WTLYL before it was aired.

And the plot? Well, if you haven't yet seen SNGH here's a great plot synopsis which might intrigue you enough to chase it down. It's from the 23 March 2003 edition of the Sunday Times: "Dan Zeff's cautionary tale Sweetnightgoodheart observes [how] David Tennant's attempts to ditch his girlfriend (Kate Ashfield) spiral out of control." And from the

Here are also a couple of photos!

And while we're at it, here are a number of short summaries - and one longer article from the Evening Standard which includes a photo! - which appeared in various newspapers when WTLYL aired in 2003:

During my research into the origins of SNGH, I've seen the BBC series it featured in variably titled as Ways To Leave Your Lover, and Eight Ways To Leave Your Lover. This discrepancy appears both in print and on the CVs of various actors and crew involved with the project (here's an example). While not confirmed, my belief is Eight Ways to Leave Your Lover was a working title. Five films aired on the program, but I've found an additional two which didn't (which makes me think there was a third whose title I have not been able to ascertain). I believe that at some point in the process, a decision was made to remove three of the films originally scheduled to air, and the name was changed accordingly.

in addition to SNGH, the other four films aired during WTLYL were Stag, Dog, Unscrew, and Dumping Elaine. I didn't find places to watch most of them, but you can see Dog and Dumping Elaine at the links I've provided. Here's what I know about them:

---

Stag - written by Ian Iqbal Rashid and starring Stuart Laing and Nitin Ganatra: a bridegroom wakes up on the morning of his wedding in bed with the best man.

Dog - written by Andrea Arnold and starring Joanne Hill, Freddie Cunliffe and Veronica Valentine: a fifteen year-old girl finds the will to stand up for herself when she witnesses a disturbing and violent incident.

Unscrew - written by Clara Glynn and starring Douglas Henshall and Emma Fielding: a surreal short about a guy whose girlfriend unscrews his penis and takes it with her when they begin separating their belongings after their breakup.

Dumping Elaine - written by Peter Lydon and starring Susan Lynch, Matthew Delamere and Dido Miles: waitresses play Cupid.

---

SNGH is archived at the BFI on VHS and Beta, and in two master forms (16mm/35mm). You can see it there, but I'll save you a trip: while a 4.35G digital copy was made off the master, there's no access to it. The viewing copy MP4 is only 305MB.

If you've read this far, you're probably wondering how you can see it. There are plenty of ways! If you are a registered BFI Screenonline user - and registration is free for users in UK libraries, colleges and universities - you can watch it here (and perhaps download it, though I'm given to understand it's only available for download during certain times). It's also floating around the webs in various forms and qualities on Vimeo, Dailymotion, FilmNow, etc. All of these aren't the greatest of quality, but it's the best we've got. Ah, for a better quality video file taken off the master copy!

But I'd recommend watching it at Dan Zeff's own website.

And that's it for Sweetnightgoodheart. I hope you've enjoyed reading about it as much as I have writing and researching it!

#DavidTennant #ObscureDavidTennantPerformances #DavidTennantShortFilms #Sweetnightgoodheart

[acefaun]

Hello ( o´ｪ｀o)

Can i request a fic? Reader is struggling with her life, emotionally. And Bilbo comforts her.

Bilbo~ Late Night Chat

Synopsis: It’s not good to bottle up your feelings. Luckily, there are perks to having a friendly, burglar hobbit around! Maybe you just need someone to share your burdens in life…

🍃Masterlist🍃 Female MC!

A/n: Mood. I also just assumed we were human. And our emotional grief was vague, so I just ran in the direction my internal angst was telling me to go, and I hope it’s alright! Then again, it also feels like platonic fluff… 🤭 HAPPY (extremely late) HOBBIT DAY! 🌿☕

–Word Count: 2,093–

Bilbo knew you were the only woman journeying with them to the Lonely Mountain; much in the same fashion that he was the only hobbit journeying with their motley crew. Still, his purpose for being there was simply that he was their hired burglar. Bilbo had never heard of a reason why you might have been joining them. It wasn’t that you looked too young to be going off to fight dragons… But he thought you were much too pretty—not that he’d ever say that out loud, especially in front of all these dwarves who seemed to prefer their women with more hair… 

He never imagined himself traveling across Middle Earth with a company of dwarves and a wizard, let alone a human. He couldn't imagine why you would have been traveling with a group like them on such a dangerous mission—only Gandalf really knew the answer to that question.

Regardless, over time, he was growing less curious and more… worried about you. 

One night, when you'd offered to keep watch over the camp, Bilbo joined you, sitting by the warm fireside. Bilbo saw the two of you as close friends, being that you were the couple of non-dwarven members of the company. Oftentimes, the two of you banded together in the face of trouble. So, while there didn't outwardly appear to be anything immediately life-threatening, Bilbo still took this to be one of those troublesome times.

Without consulting you, he brewed a small pot of tea for the two of you with the few tea leaves he brought from home. 

This action caught your confused attention. You curiously pointed out, “I thought you only had a few of those… I was sure you'd use them once our journey was nearing its end.” 

Bilbo shrugged, glancing at you with a light-hearted smile. “I was saving them for the right occasion,” he admitted, “This seems like as good an occasion as any.”

“What occasion might that be? A little hobbit tradition I don't know about?”

“Well, tea is a relaxing drink. I find it helps clear the mind—I was sure it was a bit of a comforting tradition in any race,” he casually explained, as if any reason were a good reason to have tea. “It should also warm you up. You don't want to catch cold out here.” 

“Comforting…?” You repeated that singular word, gazing at him questioningly, but he could clearly see through you. You sighed, resigning yourself to his kindness. “Thank you.” 

After he brewed the tea and served it, you drank quietly together for a peaceful moment. The atmosphere was always calm and serene when the dwarves were (mostly) all sleeping. 

While you both sat relaxed and gazed at the stars, Bilbo quietly said in a matter-of-fact tone, “You know… this is the farthest I've ever been from home.” You curiously glanced at him to show you were listening. “The Shire… Bag End… It seems small, now, compared to the rest of the world.”

You nodded your head in solemn agreement. This little hobbit was learning. “Becoming a traveler will give you new perspectives on everything you've known.” 

He silently huffed, nodding his head before sipping his tea. There was an understanding between the two of you. “Somehow,” he continued, “I ended up being the lucky hobbit chosen to join the company. It was just luck that I was burglar material, I guess.” He shrugged sheepishly as he added, “And I was fortunate enough to meet you…” He eyed you as if you were supposed to pitch in at any time. 

Sighing, you reluctantly pitched in, “Well, I'm glad you joined us. It might not seem like much right now, since your priority is to sneak into the mountain… But sometimes I think you're the only thing holding me together.” 

Finally, he was getting through to you; you were opening up to him. “You’ve been through your fair share of troubles in this company; and us non-dwarven folk have to look out for one another.” He added that last part with a fond smile. “But you know, beyond being a healer, you never really said why you decided to help a bunch of dwarves find their way back home. Don't you have a family worried about you?” 

“You're pretty far from home, Bilbo…” You quietly referenced his previous statement. “Well, I am too… I've been a traveler for a while now, preparing for this very journey.”

“Hold up- Wait,” Bilbo stuttered to stop you in your tracks. “Preparing? You knew about this company before it was made?”

“Not exactly,” you vaguely answered. Well, it was time you shared your origins with your dearest traveling companion. “Bilbo… I come from Esgaroth, or… better known as Lake-town, a little homely village of men just before the Lonely Mountain. We were survivors from the City of Dale.”

Bilbo’s eyes widened as if just recognizing the significance of this journey to you. “So you… you've seen the dragon?” He was hesitant to ask such a heavy question, but it came out as any other normal question would. 

Maybe because of the number of years that had passed, you felt less daunted by that kind of question, despite the invisible scars and trauma the dragon left you with. You nodded tersely. “I was a child at the time… and my brother did his best to keep us safe. That… didn't stop it from becoming a traumatic memory for anyone. And then rumors started spreading of a story… that some day the dwarves would return to reclaim Erebor and reawaken the dragon, drowning everything in seas of flame…” You paused, silence filling the air until you gained the courage to continue your tale, “You asked me if I had any family worried about me. Well, my brother and his children are waiting for me back home. That's where I'm going… home. Same as everyone here.” 

Despite your full explanation and honest answer, Bilbo looked conflicted, like there was something he wasn’t understanding. There was something missing from your story; there was some kind of gap, some detail that he wasn’t privy to. “Why would you… be helping the dwarves enter the mountain at the risk of facing the dragon again? You can’t… want to face it…” 

He studied you intensely, and though you appeared deeply troubled at the journey ahead, you also looked determined—something that left Bilbo speechless. Your eyes met his, eyes that held much tenacity. “You’re right,” you agreed with him. “I don’t think anyone in their right mind would want to face a fire-breather, especially not twice in one lifetime. But I have to. The family I have in Lake-town are the only ones I have left, and I’m going to protect them. After all… our father almost slayed the dragon, revealing a weak spot that, if exploited, could end his reign over Erebor and ensure the safety of my family.”

Bilbo gaped at you, shocked at this information that had never been shared before. “You’re saying there is a way to kill the dragon?”

You offered him a smile. It should have been an encouraging smile, but even you knew that the chances of success were slim… but not zero. “Yes,” you acknowledged. “My brother and I are the only two who are aware of it. I’m hoping I can bring this up with him when we reach Lake-town… and that he doesn’t turn you all away at the door. After all… we’re all aware of the legends that foretell Lake-town’s demise.”

“That’s… a lot of pressure to be carrying on your shoulders alone,” Bilbo grieved for you, knowing you wouldn’t admit yourself that this was, in fact, a burden on you. “Especially since it affects your family…” He paused before gently laying a hand on your arm. If he knew anything, it was that you must have been in a great deal of emotional turmoil since this journey started—nay, before that, even. “I’m glad you shared this with me. Please… if there’s anything I can do-” 

He paused as your hand rested on top of his. Once again, your eyes met in a tender gaze. “Thank you for listening,” you responded in appreciation. Bilbo was truly a kind hobbit. 

Bilbo relaxed at seeing the soft, almost untroubled look in your eyes. At the very least, you looked less burdened now that you had confided in someone. “(Name)... It must be a lot to have kept this to yourself for so long. Now, I’m not one to lecture, but it’s not good to bottle up your feelings. You were going headfirst into a personal battle without any backup.” Inhaling deeply, he added, “I’m going to be behind you the entire time.” He nodded with unfaltering loyalty. “More than just getting these dwarves back home… I want to help you get home, (Name). You’ve been through so much, and you’re still fighting. You’re incredibly strong for having come so far. Now, I know we haven’t reached the end yet… but I’ll be right beside you when we do.”

His eyes widened when your arms suddenly flew around him, holding him close to you. For a flustered moment of his life, he wasn’t sure what to do, but his instincts kicked in, and he was embracing you right back in no time. His chin rested on your shoulder as he comfortingly rubbed your back. It was official… he didn’t care what happened, so long as everything worked out for you in the end. He was absolutely smitten. He was thanking every god above that neither of you were holding your cups of tea at the moment you decided to strike, however. But he was grateful to have come up with the idea of making tea for you in the first place. 

“Gandalf was right,” you quietly mused. 

Though, that comment made Bilbo bewildered. “About what…?”

“Hobbits are extremely homely.” You beamed, relaxing beside him once more. He was glad to see you smile again, he was thrilled to see you look more at ease than you had since your journey started. But… it was because of him? You must have noticed his perplexed expression, for you explained, “Gandalf mention that hobbits are extremely fond of the comforts of home. But here, under a blanket of stars, I find myself feeling at home with you, Bilbo.”

He took that to mean… that you were comfortable around him, as you would be in your own home. The thought make him perk up with a poorly-hidden smug grin. “Well, I guess being a burglar isn’t my only talent,” he jested. “Though, I have to agree… drinking tea with you under the stars makes me feel like I’m right back in Bag End.” He hummed thoughtfully. “The world is a small place when you’re with someone you care about…”

His cheeks flushed when he felt your hand rest over his, and slowly, together, you lightly intertwined your fingers. You didn’t say anything, but he had a feeling you were sharing his unspoken feelings. For the moment, they would remain unspoken, untouched, untrodden. All he desired was your company, your contentedness. His grip around your hand tightened reassuringly as the two of you basked in the calm night. 

***

Kili nudged Fili’s shoulder, shaking the blonde dwarf awake, gesturing for his silence with a finger in front of his lips before he could jolt upright and cause a scene. Fili shot a questioning gaze to his brother, who quite energetically gestured to the dim fire. 

At first, he was irritated that Kili woke him up at all, but seeing the silhouette of the hobbit and the human, his eyes widened as if to take in the two on look-out. Fili’s eyes flickered back to Kili and they both shared knowing grins, nudging each other as quietly as they could in their aggressive dwarfish manner. 

Indeed, Middle-Earth was a small world.

#middle earth #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit bilbo #bilbo baggins #bilbo x reader

[c6jpg]

okay okay arlecchino story quest thoughts

overall i liked it but mainly the whole duel sequence which was fucking awesome but some points that bugged me:

the release of arlecchino's animated short basically spoiling the entire story quest

mentioned in the tags of my previous post but yeah i think the story quest would have been a lot more... idk interesting? revealing? if the animated short had been released after this patch/story quest. you basically spend the entire first half of the story quest already knowing the "twist" and have to watch literally everyone else figure it out which is never really engaging nor fun story telling.

like you KNOWWW arlecchino is not "that evil" and you KNOWWWWW all these atrocities were from the previous knave so seeing literally everybody go through these theatrics is a little. sigh. idk. like i was just waiting to get to the boss fight bc i knew the corresponding cutscenes would be awesome (and they were) and getting random fatui insider knowledge was fun i enjoyed having what was effectively seeing arlecchino and childe in the office break room but we didn't really learn anything we didn't already know

also. arlecchino is hardly the first but it really is just kinda. sigh when you basically get a whole scene of the character explaining their OWN tragic backstory. once again genshin fails to show not tell

freminet

i know a lot of people are upset about the freminet timeline. honestly idc at this point i'll suspend my belief whatever yadda yadda but i do think it was a cop out for freminet to have like. not at least been SUSPICIOUS that clervie was possibly talking about the previous knave just because crucabena "didn't talk about it and all the experiments ended" by the time he joined the house

like he spent a significant time with clervie (half a month right?) trying to help her out and even if clervie was "a child stuck in the past" she wasn't exactly trying to hide anything and they ALL knew she was some sort of ghost or maybe something tied to memories/leylines. and he KNEW crucabena so i'm just like. a little aghast he didn't have any damn idea like at least make him suspicious right so he and the traveler can join heads and be like "hmmmmmmm something is not right here HMMMMMMMMM" like if you are SO sure arlecchino isn't "that kind of person" (ig this was more lyney saying this but still) wouldn't you consider maaaaaaaaaaaybe the previous knaves were?

there was a single moment when they were at the table sharing intel that freminet was "lost in thought" and i think that would have been a fantastic moment for freminet to be the star and voice his suspicious but we got literally nothing from that.

honestly just disappointed freminet didn't do more in the story tbh. the trailer was really hyping him up to literally change the game lol

the results of the duel

i mean we saw it coming we knew she was gonna spare those children somehow. idrk how to describe it like on one hand yes would be nice to have more morally fucked up characters and its a little disappointing that arlecchino isn't "that bad" she's actually super normal all things considering (childe fucking LIED) on the other hand i don't necessarily hate this is the way they made her character? but the result of the duel still felt like a huge cop out lmao like it was basically an indirect "your resolve towards family impressed me so i'll let them live" which was exactly how i didn't want this to be resolved but also don't know how they would have done it otherwise

arlecchino's curse/flames/????????

GIRL CAN YOU ELABORATE PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE i know it has to do with her being part of some khaenrian (?) bloodline or something but lajdksfldjflads can you elaborate what do you mean your flames can be extracted and burn memories we're just all gonna take that and run with it huh

anyways.

regardless i loved the main battle cutscene in her boss form. loved that bit where she blocked freminet and lynette's dual attack and was like "sorry for what? this pitiful excuse for an attack?" i was banging my fist on the table i loved that bit sooooooooooo fucking much dear god

ending cutscene was expected and bittersweet but i liked it a lot as well. really the graphics and me just really liking arlecchino saved this quest for me LOL i think it has a lot of plot holes compared to other story quests but also a much more interesting story (bar is in hell) although you're guaranteed to get some sort of lore with a weekly boss but anyways it averages out to being a pretty okay but not spectacular story quest 👍 maybe like a 6/10, would have rated it higher if the animated short didn't spoil everything

#0.txt #genshin spoilers #4.6 spoilers

[beautifulsnake2162020]

Beautiful Anomaly (Part 2): Morpheus x FReader

(GIF by skulandcrossbones: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/skulandcrossbones/691820696337317888?source=share)

Morpheus x FemReader (present day, its a little hard to explain)

A couple of disclaimers:

1.) This is all based on the Netflix show and I have 0 background on the graphic novel it is based on (so don't expect it to be faithful);

2.) This is a fan work, the only benefit I derive from this is sharing it with the community.

Guess who got inspired and decided to upload this part earlier than expected 😂 As usual the original was way too long so I had to cut it (so yes there is inevitably a part 3 which was originally part of part 2).

Again I would like to thank everyone who loved "Beautiful Anomaly (Part 1)". To those who wants to read part 1 first (which I highly recommend since I'm not sure you could understand part 2 without the context and world building of part 1) you may read it here:

Taglist (if you want to be a part of the taglist just comment requesting so): @winxschester @true-queen-of-mischief @laydreams

You feel Jessamy travel back to the realm of the Dreaming as your physical body is asleep. Seeing the perspective of a raven travelling was an astounding experience. You vaguely remember being a bird once, but that was several eons ago. The plan was that Jessamy would tell Lucienne about what had happened and get possible back up for his rescue.

However

You suddenly feel a gust of pain in your chest. Or rather in Jessamy's chest. It's as if there was a barrier to the gates of the Dreaming.

"Ma'am, I don't understand, this wasn't a problem before." No matter how hard she pushed, the invisible barrier did not allow her to enter.

"Jessamy don't force it, can you still find your way back here?"

"I believe so, I've learned to recognize your energy. Lord Morpheus showed how and he was right; you're very easy to find." So he taught her that too eh.

You briefly awaken and Jessamy had just landed on your window sill.

"I don't understand, why was there a barrier. I don't think Lucienne would do that." You were starting to get legitimately tired when an idea popped up.

"New plan: you rest. I'll inform Lucienne when I enter the dreaming." Jessamy was tired out and simply nodded before gathering some of your clothes and making a bed for herself.

Once you find yourself in the Dreaming, you do your best to summon Lucienne into your part of the Dreaming realm.

However

Something doesn't seem right. It's almost as if you were in a barrier as well. Or rather your dream has been isolated from the dreaming realm.

This can't be because Morpheus is not there. There have been a handful of times when he would meet you or Death outside of the Dreaming in the past and it was nothing like this. Based on what Jessamy has told you, they weren't gone for that long so it shouldn't have any effect on the dreaming realm.

You try transporting yourself to the library. Even if Lucienne isn't there, it was a reliable place to leave a message for Mervyn to deliver to her. But alas you weren't able to do so either.

You wake up puzzled.

"Any luck ma'am?"

"No Jessamy, it seems I too am subject of the barrier. Or rather my area of dreaming is now isolated and beyond my own imagination, I couldn't contact anyone from the castle." Jessamy tilted her head, discerning.

"Maybe ma'am your part of the Dreaming was somehow moved to the waters. Since it has been awhile since you were actively there, your dreams are now in the waters where everyone else dreams are stored. Perhaps that is why you can't summon anyone." She has a point.

"Have you recovered your strength?" You see Jessamy nod back at you.

"Go back to the place where he is imprisoned. Be discreet. The point is to observe the layout of the place, and the habits of those that guard him. No engagement of any kind. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am." And she flew off, using what little of the Dreaming realm she could use to cut short the distance from your place to his prison.

While she was spying and recording the layout of the mansion, you start your own part of preparations.

Fortunately, you were born into a wealthy family and it was no problem for you to access it. You were an only child of your parents, the sole grandchild of your paternal grandfather who was part of the new money in his generation which later on you reap and benefit from his passing. Among the grandchildren of your maternal grandfather, you were the only woman, and this lead to both your still alive maternal grandparents to spoil you in whatever way they can. For being people of old money wealth, they were surprisingly supportive when you told them how you wanted to visit England. You did your best not to roll your eyes at how loudly your grandfather was thinking that maybe you could finally find a husband.

This wasn't a social vacation. It was an intelligence operation.

Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself anyway. That it was only that and nothing more.

Jessamy returned to you and together you made a rough draft of the layout that she has observed so far.

"His tools are hidden somewhere, but I can't tell where."

"We'll worry about his tools when he's out."

"I see, oh and I've managed to see the title of the spell book they used." You write down the spell book for a later visit to the library.

"Have you seen him?" She nods sadly. You could already sense the images that she gives you from her mind.

He was trapped in a glass sphere. Still within the magical circle that captured him. Now they've also added a moat of water surrounding him. The guards that watch are alert, but you can tell that they are sleep deprived.

You were about to ask, but a pill bottle was opened and you were able to see enough to be able to read the label.

Forced March

To keep them awake and to prevent them from falling asleep. You don't know all of the ingredients, but you do recall the drug was made with extracting caffeine from both coffee beans and tea leaves and blended with other things to further stimulate the nervous system.

Apart from that, based on what Jessamy has heard: They've recruited enough members into their group to make sure that no one is sleep deprived for long and that each set of guards has had more than adequate amounts of sleep.

The bad news, Morpheus cannot use his power of dreams.

"The Corinthian must have informed them on how to bind and imprison him. My poor lord." You hear the despair in her thoughts. You silently agreed that its the rogue nightmare who has taken initiative to help them imprison his master so he may roam about free.

The good news, if they want to stay awake and have only conscious thoughts then so be it. His weakness, was your strength and well within your abilities.

You just need to make your way to London and be within radius of the imprisonment at the very least. It would be better if you were on location but that's too dangerous and risky. Especially if they have wards, and other unseen magical protection that could harm you if you used your abilities carelessly. The spell book Jessamy saw was one of many, and you weren't taking that risk.

Or at least not uninformed.

If you were going to be on location, at most its to see if you can talk to him using conscious thoughts, and to think of possible escape routes.

For awhile this was yours and Jessamy's routine, you did on the ground research while she spied the manor and what they were doing to Morpheus. You were making arrangements for having enough clothes and resources to be able to go to London for a couple of months at least.

At this point you didn't care if you have to sleep with some son of an aristocratic family and marry into one just to stay in London. If anything it will finally make your grandfather shut up about a husband, and you can be closer to Morpheus.

Not in that way. You mean that in a professional manner. The world would be destroyed if dreams and nightmares could just escape and walk in the waking world.

Or at least that's what you told yourself.

When the time came for you to finally travel to London (albeit with your parents and grandparents but they respect you enough to allow you to roam alone), you can feel Jessamy's excitement in the possibility that Morpheus may finally be free.

You keep telling her that this is still intelligence gathering.

"But there's hope ma'am, hope that we can finally free him." If she was human, you could easily imagine her jumping up and down and running around the room fueled by her excitement.

You didn't have the heart to dash her hopes.

It's not that you weren't an optimist. You like to view yourself as a realistic optimist. Is there a chance that you two could successfully get him out? Yes. Was that chance very small? Also yes. But is there a chance to further spy on them? Very much so.

When you arrived in London and was introduced to aristocratic circles that knew your grandparents, news began to spread about a party in the manor of Burgess.

The place where Morpheus was imprisoned.

"That old creep? Why would anyone want to attend his parties?" scoffs one of the bachelors that you were introduced to.

"Hey now, a party is a party. Especially one wherein I could get away from these old farts." says a woman who is the same age as you, but you turned 19 a few months before her. Apparently the consensus among aristocrats of your generation was that Burgess was a strange man, part of the occult and mystic arts, and that doing anything associated with him is considered to be ungentlemanlike or unladylike.

In short, the perfect place for new aristocrats to rebel against the former generation while being hedonistic.

The perfect cover up for an intelligence mission.

"Is there a party tonight?" You ask taking a sip of the white wine in your glass.

"No, but there's one on Saturday." the woman says to you.

"Then I guess we know where we'll be on Saturday." you give them a smirk as you take a drink from water to balance out the alcohol.

"Oh forget it you two. It's by invitation only."

"No, based from what I know, its only the first hundred to arrive."

"No! Its-" you no longer followed the argument. You got what you need anyway. Later that night in the privacy of your bedroom balcony as you pretend to be writing in your journal while you and Jessamy were conversing as quietly as you can. She was seated on the chair beside you, hidden away from most perspectives except for anyone looking from above.

"Again, what's going to happen on Saturday?" From your periphery, you could see her raising her head through the movement of her beak.

"An intelligence mission."

"What is the objective?"

"Observe and report."

"Observe and report what?"

"Any possible routes that were hidden off that we can use."

"Is that all?"

"...no" she says uneasily. She's forgotten something.

"Check on Morpheus-"

"CHECK ON LORD MORPHEUS!" You could hear her internally berate herself for forgetting that part.

"Jessamy, focus. There's no guarantee that I myself can physically check on him. I need to stay within the party so no one suspects. And for your safety, be discreet." You keep your voice gentle but firm. Enough to show that you're not angry, but firm enough to call her focus.

"But how are you going to communicate with him?"

"If he's awake, I'll project my conscious thoughts to him. If he's asleep, I'll use the energy of the conscious thoughts around me to wake him up."

"And if he doesn't respond?"

"Then at least we'll know that the glass sphere also blocks off telepathy of any kind before actually rescuing him." CRASH! A sound breaks your conversation with Jessamy, startling her into almost flying out for safety. You take large steps towards your door and open it slightly to see what's going on.

You see your grandfather was responsible for the now broken glass set. But this time you've noticed that your grandma wouldn't mind. From what you could see, he's in tears and your grandma embraces him and cries with him.

"Avery is dead!"

"Shh, my love we don't know. The letter says he has the sleeping sickness that's all."

"But Jane, no one has awaken from that. It's an early death sentence."

"My love, have hope, maybe he'll be the first one to wake up." Your grandfather couldn't find it himself to reply as he continues to weep in your grandma's arms.

Your heart breaks for him.

The sleeping sickness was only a confirmation to what you've already known since Jessamy told you that Morpheus was imprisoned.

The waking world is suffering, because the world of the unconscious is out of control without their master. You may not know the true extent of what that entails, but it was important now that Morpheus returns home to the Dreaming.

Even if he had hurt you and your feelings.

This was no longer about you, the being. It was about the world you lived in.

You take one last glance before giving your grandparents-your grandfather-the privacy he needs to weep and grieve. To mourn a dear friend of his and grandma. You may not personally know who this Avery is. But nevertheless he has made an impact large enough to make a normally jolly man weep.

You give yourself time to reflect. You never thought you would be back in Britain. Your previous lifetime before this one was rather short and tragic. A woman who had cancer who died before she could really have a life. Died in poverty and was probably thought to be insane for most of her life. People could later on debate if you really were insane or if the society just brushed poor women like you under the rug to be ignored.

The only reason why you were even able to make it to 20 was because of a good doctor who was one of the few who didn't mind keeping you company. You and he exchanged thoughts and he was one of the few who still gave you some sense of dignity for a patient whom everyone thought was just insane. You asked him why one day. When he could be doing anything else in the world, he chooses to spend time with a sickly woman who was worthless in the eyes of society.

"I don't think you are worthless."

"Why is that doctor?"

"Because unlike many people, you and your stories are interesting and captivating."

"You have interesting stories too doctor. I think you have no idea how your stories have really encouraged me to do my best to live."

"I never thought a story about a mysterious murder victim would have that effect on you."

"It makes me want to know more. And I can only know more if I do my best to live." You stop briefly coughing as he rubs your back. He has already given you your medicine earlier, there was nothing else he could medically do at this point. Looking back, you suspect that maybe he stayed with you because he knew the power of the mind to prevail. Especially when it has company with similar interests.

"It seems like you are one of the few people who think that way. Everyone else thinks that its too confusing."

"Have you tried showing the logic behind how he connected the clues?" He gives you a sad smile.

"I don't think people would like going into the more technical details. Especially if they are outsiders to certain industries. Even those inside would simply think about work and would just be bored to death."

"Is Moby Dick one of your inspirations doctor?" He laughs as he shakes his head.

"Absolutely not, its a fiction that I detest. I couldn't get passed all the industry specific details about whaling."

"Well that's good to know. Maybe its the way you present it doctor. I quite enjoy the story, but I especially love how you would explain the patterns leading up to the killer. Maybe there is a common ground wherein you could write all the details, while keeping it so interesting." You cough once again, this time harder. He gives you warm water with honey to soothe your throat.

"I'll tell you what doctor. What if you could tell it to me first, and then I'll tell you when it gets confusing. Then you could explain it further to me and why it is so important to finding out who the killer is." He pondered briefly in thought before you could sense a warm sense of companionship from his conscious thoughts.

"Very well, I shall have to pay tribute and credit you as my co-author."

"No, doctor I'm not. This is your story, I just want to help make it audience friendly that's all." It wouldn't do you good to simply be sidelined. Based on recent history and how society tends to treat female writers, you're happy to remain an anonymous collaborator.

"That simply won't do. Please tell me how I can give you credit." You think for awhile as you take a breath to calm yourself after a coughing fit.

"When you become successful, can you make me a character in one of your stories?"

"Of course, shall I put your name?"

"No, I don't like my name in this lifetime. May I change it?" You whispered what was your preferred name and preferred profession.

Afterwards his doctor visits also became editing sessions to that now famous story. You weren't able to read it back then. Most of the substantial meat in the story was finished. He just needed to arrange it into the story you got so invested in. You sensed that Death was about to arrive, that you signed your last note to the good doctor whom you have confided in plenty of things. How thanks to help and insight, you were no longer jealous of Hob Gabling.

"He may not want to admit it, and he may not even recognize it. But we all search for companionship at some point. You say he is very empathetic but rigid?"

"Yes, he hurt my feelings by not going to me. And yet I can't blame him for his rigidness because its a way for him to be in control. Otherwise, the world would come to an end."

"Then maybe its because that's one of the few ways he can show he cares."

"He's had women come to his bed who felt loved. I could hardly believe he's ignorant of this fact."

"But have you considered that he admires you so much, because to him you're a phenomenon that is a mystery to him. And rather than unlocking that mystery, he chooses to accept that there are some things that are beyond his understanding. And would rather admire it from afar, than simply be confused by the things you could do and the stories you create." The good doctor has a point. But it was only later on in your last few hours that you could finally admit it to yourself.

"It still wouldn't have hurt to ask me though." He chuckled as he places a thermometer in your mouth.

"I may not be him, but I would like to apologize on behalf of ignorant men everywhere."

You let tears of happiness fall as you write your last note to the good doctor. Even if you wouldn't be associated with this story, even if you were unnamed from his biography, his companionship in this lifetime was worth so much more than the fame that you sensed would arrive soon after.

Dear Dr. Doyle.

Thank you for your companionship

I hope to be remembered not as a sick woman who had a short tragic life. I don't want to be remembered as someone who was unimportant. But a woman who just loved talking about stories and sharing them with you. I want to be remembered as the character you will someday write within the stories you create. I hope that I was an equal in the stories we share.

Once you eliminate all other possibilities, then what remains is the truth. No matter how improbable.

Thank you so much

Signed

Irene Adler, Opera singer, probable spy.

The woman

You hear someone call your name as you return back to the present. The good doctor has kept his promise. You smile briefly as you spot a bookstore along the way promoting that it had copies of the Sherlock Holmes novels. The good doctor may not know who you are in this lifetime but you never forgot him. You helped him in refining the skill of analysis and deduction.

Now it was time to use them in this rescue mission.

As you step down from the carriage, you spot Jessamy in your periphery.

'Jessamy you are a bit obvious, I could still spot you.'

'Oh sorry ma'am.' You give a discreet look at where she was previously. You could no longer visually see her, but based on your bond she's backed up into the shadows and had remained much more still.

Good, it's still too early for her to attempt to go inside. The sun has just gone down, and night was still coming but not yet here. Your group of the new generation's aristocrats were able to get a privileged invitation and were able to arrive early, ensuring that you would be able to get in.

You play the flirt, the wide-eyed naivete who has never been to a mystical place. You were sheltered, you explained. At most the wonders that you've seen were only what was discussed in the public journals. This predictably had them eating out of your hand.

To be safe you need to check if your powers interfered with the wards and other potential magic that was in this place. You gently use a small amount of it on your companions. That way if it was obvious, you could say that it was the Burgess Manor that was doing it and not you. Also by using it first on your own companions, there's less of a chance that any guards would be alarmed at the potential of having a being with supernatural powers within their midst.

You make sure to look away as you gently tap the minds of your companions. At the same time you use your senses to check if there's any detection by the occultists.

No reaction so far.

That looks promising.

There were also no signs from your companions that they felt you in their minds, simply reaching out to their conscious thoughts.

Good. If you can reap their energy amidst being in the party, then you just might be able to communicate with Morpheus. You need to be gentle enough that their brains would mistake it as a subconscious thought. But you need much more people before attempting to do it to communicate.

You also need to be sure that among the occultists they didn't have magic barriers, or if they did, such barriers wouldn't react to what you were doing. In theory it shouldn't be the case. With enough people, you just need even just one or two surface level thoughts from them. You weren't trying to attack their minds, just travel through them and get a little bit of energy along the way.

And if you can help it, you would stay away from the mind of Roderick Burgess. It is too risky and if he began to suspect any supernatural mental presence, it would undermine all that you and Jessamy have done so far.

From the periphery of the window, the night was finally beginning. You send a message to Jessamy that in awhile she should infiltrate the manor. She will be the judge of when that is. She sends back a thought that she had heard the message.

More people enter the manor for the party. More minds to tap into. If the place were overflowing with outside people, then there is a high chance that you don't need to tap into the minds of the occultists.

Speaking of the occultists, there were definitely a few who were on guard duty. About 12 to be exact based on where their minds were. 10 were guarding the prison proper where Morpheus was located. Morpheus, who was resting but very much conscious, was in the center based on the positions. You feel some of them think rather loudly how miserable they were that they were going to miss the party. 2 of the occultists were guarding the entrance to the prison. Probably in case of a rogue partygoer accidentally wanders into their midst.

Once the manor was filled with plenty of visitors, and the gates were closed to anyone who wasn't able to go in, that was the time you began to do your job. Fortunately for you, there was lively music playing, delicious food served in a buffet style that was normally reserved for luncheons. All things that could make people a lot more energetic and would allow you to have less effort.

There was also unsurprisingly alcohol which for your purposes was a double-edged sword. On one hand, if enough people was intoxicated then they wouldn't really notice your presence in their minds. On the other hand, alcohol being a depressant meant that their conscious thoughts would have less energy and would require more effort from you. The more effort you exert, the higher the chances that you would get caught by one of the occultists, if not by Burgess himself.

If nothing else happens tonight, the least you could do was suggest the presence of some stimulants to make the next party even livelier.

Jessamy was able to infiltrate the premises through an unused chimney. How she was able to travel down the chimney, you have no idea.

'Remember be discreet' you send to her. It was still too early to do anything to help Morpheus that wasn't planned.

'I will ma'am' a part of you wonders if she's getting annoyed at you being cautious or maybe it was your almost constant reminding.

Probably both.

You engage in the festivities, or rather you did the average amount of activities that would throw anyone suspicious of you off. You drank enough alcohol to be tipsy, but not inebriated. You drank lots of water and had eaten a lot of the food offered. Before leaving you also made sure to have taken a heavy meal just in case. You danced enough dances to at least 5 different songs. The men were rather astounded by your stamina on the dance floor. You teased them enough to suggest something more, but your words alone couldn't implicate you in anything scandalous.

Or at least nothing that was scandalous beyond the norm for a rebellious aristocratic woman.

No one questioned why you needed to rest and take a breath in a less crowded area, but was still a part of the party area of the manor. Some men followed you, but after acting too tired to do anything beyond flirting, they left you. In order to get yourself to be alone, you pretended to be drowsy and sleepy.

The irony of that doesn't escape you. You were more awake than ever. The energy from the conscious minds that were nearby was almost like a double espresso shot that made you want to move around.

You take a breath, gently tapped the the minds of the party goers. For tonight you decide to avoid using any of the minds of the occultists. The information you and Jessamy had were still lacking, and when there were any doubts as to what you should do, you would pick caution. Fortunately, the night was still young and not too many people were drunk yet. It didn't take you much effort to gather energy from their conscious thoughts and to have your message travel to Morpheus.

Jessamy had just arrived too in the prison proper. Her movements slower and more stealthier than what you've felt from her before.

'Jessamy, do you think you could still talk to Morpheus?'

'I thought that was your job?'

'Try talking with him first, then I'll try it with mine. Either way I'll still feel it.' Through Jessamy's eyes you see that Morpheus was very much awake despite him lying down. His eyes were glaring at his guards.

'Lord Morpheus, its Jessamy. If you can hear me sit down.' You await.

He remains where he is, glaring at the guards.

'Ma'am I'm going to try moving closer.'

'How close are you planning?'

'I'll try going in the area.'

'No'

'But ma'am'

'Safety first, there are too many guards around him. I haven't tapped into their minds yet but their thoughts are loudly thinking about the party and how stuck they feel.' Thinking quickly you suddenly get an idea.

'Jessamy, more or less how far are you from Morpheus?'

'I don't know, about one tree?' her brain gives you a reference to what tree she's referring to.

So about a couple of meters and a half more or less.

'Stay where you are. I'll try to use you as a conduit to talk to Morpheus.' You feel her settle down and blend in more with the darkness as you gather the energy of the conscious minds of the party.

'Morpheus, its me. If you can hear me, sit down.' You then gently send the message travelling through the conscious minds of the party goers and when it arrives in Jessamy's mind, you add power to project it on to him.

Now you await through Jessamy's eyes.

It didn't seem like he heard you.

Time to try a different tactic.

You were about to pull out of Jessamy's mind when through her eyes, you see Morpheus look at Jessamy's way. His eyes no longer glaring. But it's an expression that you couldn't read.

'You're here?' Jessamy was about to fly with joy when you sternly reminded her through your own bond to be still.

'With Jessamy, I'm speaking with you through her and the other party goers.'

'LORD MORPHEUS I'M SO GLAD WE CAN TALK!' You can feel him send her feelings of affection in reassurance.

'How are you? Jessamy please be still, the party is starting to wind down and people are starting to get drunk. I won't be able to use their consciousness much longer without possibly getting caught.'

'Sorry Ma'am.'

'Suffering. That's all I can say. I've been suffering.'

'We'll try to get you out of there but you'll have to be patient.'

'Have you tried telling Lucienne?'

'We've tried but it seems there's a barrier preventing Jessamy from going back to the realm proper and preventing me from calling for Lucienne.'

'The spell that's keeping me contained here must have had an effect on you, through your bond with Jessamy. I couldn't go to the dreaming when I tried resting.'

'That would explain some things.' You start to feel less energized. People are now falling asleep, getting drunk, or both.

'Morpheus, Jessamy and I need to go now, I'm starting to lose-'

'I understand.' You feel him briefly pause before continuing.

'Be careful you two.'

'We will Lord Morpheus.'

'Thank you, Morpheus.' and with that you pull out of Jessamy's mind and she slowly flies out of the prison proper. For your part you slowly open your eyes. It was just in time too. Not too far, you sense a couple go into a private spot for carnal activities.

You normally wouldn't mind, but right now you had to analyze what information you now had. And you can't do that within this space.

But you can't quite leave just yet. That would be too suspicious.

'Jessamy, go ahead without me. I can't leave the party yet.'

'Will you be alright Ma'am?'

'Yes, go to my bedroom and record what we've learned tonight.' You can sense her confused.

'I'm a raven ma'am. I don't know how to write.' You roll your eyes internally. It turns out she wasn't observant to how you recorded details.

'Do you remember the diary I would keep?'

'Yes'

'It's an enchanted object. Simply open a blank page and step on it. It will record what you want to say. It will be done recording your thoughts when you see your name appear at the bottom of the text.'

'Oh' With that she flies away from the Burgess Manor grounds and you proceed to see if there's still any alcoholic beverages left to be consumed. You weren't actually going to drink all of it, but you drank enough to make people think you were drunk.

No one needed to know that you threw plenty of alcohol to either the bushes, the chamber pots, or even to the couch that you were sitting on just to be convincing.

You and Jessamy meet inside your bedroom this time. You're not sure if you were followed, even though you took precautions to pretend to be drunk and inebriated that the hosts had to call a carriage to bring you home.

"Okay, so the glass is not there to prevent psychic attacks."

"Perhaps Ma'am, its to prevent Lord Morpheus from being able to touch the ground and prevent him from using any sand."

"Good point. But what I am confused by is how the ritual circle is protecting everyone else from him."

"Maybe it's just restraining him. After all how else are they able to put him in a glass sphere otherwise?" There's something else that you just couldn't put your hands on. You sigh before turning towards Jessamy.

"I don't know why, but it feels like we are missing something."

"That's why it's an intelligence mission right? To learn more. But oh ma'am this is wonderful, see there is hope that we could rescue him."

A part of you hopes that you would live up to such expectation.

The next intelligence operation is seeing what was the minimum radius required for the two of you to be able to communicate with Morpheus. You're still not willing to risk a surprise counter attack among the occultists. Which is why you're prioritizing this experiment over actually going inside the property again. You didn't like the energy that permeated there. And if either you or Jessamy could avoid going to the Burgess Manor unnecessarily, the better.

Not too far from the Manor was an inn that was large enough to have a lot of people. The more conscious people the better. Around the inn were also various restaurants that catered to the guests of the inn. Both restaurants catered to very different tastes. One, in your honest opinion, was a bastardization of Indian Cuisine. It wasn't spicy enough to bring you memories from when you were living there. But then again, those were the times when you were born male. The second restaurant, was what you would call English cuisine with French techniques. Not too bad, and probably more in line with the general tastes.

It was definitely better than the obvious bastardization of the other.

Now this lead to another conundrum.

While you were from the aristocratic class and have established yourself as part of the rebellious new generation. That didn't mean you could just ignore all mores.

You will need to find a husband.

You expected this since that was one of the conditions that granted you travel to London in the first place. You weren't new to marriage of conveniences. But a part of you wished that you could be able to rescue Morpheus, go back to Quebec, and die an old lady writer who due to her wealth and status wasn't pressured to be married.

But based on the many surprises that you sensed in the Burgess Manor even among the relative safety of a party, to be able to rescue him, would take a longer time than expected.

"You can't just do that Ma'am."

"Softer Jessamy, we don't know who could be listening." You give her a pointed look as you two were at your desk with your enchanted diary.

"But ma'am, well what if you hurt his feelings?"

"Jessamy aristocrats are used to marriage of conveniences. It's first and foremost a contract with the transfer of property. Don't worry I just need to find the right one who would let me do as I please." Jessamy sits down and looks at you with a concerned expression on her face.

"Ma'am, I think you and I both know who I mean." You take a breath. You had suspected for awhile that Jessamy might have mistaken your actions of rescuing Morpheus as signs of romantic affection. Despite your own feelings, you were pretty certain that they were unrequited.

"Jessamy, whatever you are thinking, stop it now. It's never been like that between Morpheus and I." You hate to do this, but this thinking must be nipped in the bud before proceeding. This was a delicate mission as it is. Especially when you were trying your best to keep the two of you alive.

"But he calls you 'Beautiful Anomaly', doesn't that show that he cares for you?"

"Jessamy ... I can't speak on behalf of Morpheus. I may be the creator of conscious thought but even I don't know what he thinks of me. Beings can care about other beings without being in love with them. And based on my mistakes from some of my past lifetimes, its safer to not assume things." If ravens could cry, Jessamy may have begun right there and then.

"You're his raven, he cares about you too Jessamy."

"But it feels different with you. There's a certain tone he uses whenever he talks about you. Almost like reverence mixed with affection." She looks up at you with a distraught expression.

"Surely that has to mean something. You also created emotion ma'am, surely that shows he has feelings for you."

Oh dear.

You really don't want to hurt her feelings.

But the burden was on you as someone who understood the nuances and follies of emotions.

All you can do now is to gently remove that illusion from her mind.

"Jessamy, feelings and emotions can come and go. Yes sometimes they may last longer than most, but its part of living life to feel." You take a breath because you know this would break her.

"But just because there are feelings of affection doesn't mean that there are also feelings of romantic love."

"But-but how can that be? Surely there must be -" she was at a loss for words.

You continue on.

"Jessamy, my most successful marriages throughout my entire existence had one thing in common. Love was a choice, not just a feeling." Despite her thoughts being upset at what you have to say, you could tell that she was still listening.

"There comes a time in a relationship wherein your attraction for each other fades, and you are blatantly reminded of how imperfect beings you both are. The difference lies in whether you choose to work together to resolve any issues you both have, or if you want to leave...if you can leave that is." You lower yourself down to her eye level.

"But Jessamy, that choice is not made alone. To do so would remove the other's freedom to choose. And that eventually becomes resentment and hate. While there are rules and lines that I may cross sometimes, the agency of any being - any being's freedom to choose is one that I won't cross."

"Including Lord Morpheus?"

"Especially him. Especially now that he now has a taste of what's it like to lose that freedom." You can sense her contemplating something.

"But ma'am, why did you choose to help me rescue him if you didn't love him?" There was hope in her thoughts. Hope that maybe my feelings alone could change eons of how he has treated me.

You sadly know the contrary.

"My feelings for him have changed Jessamy. A part of me will still have feelings for him. But those are nothing except my own burden to deal with." You pause for a bit to check if she is still listening to you. She was but it was in despair.

"I chose to help you, because I want to show him that I'm not mad at him anymore. Whether he actually apologizes to me or not, that is something beyond my control. But no one should be robbed of their freedom and be made to suffer like he is suffering right now." You sit up before you open your palms and wait for her to hop in. With gentleness you bring her up to your own eyes.

"Are we clear?"

"...clear" Jessamy says reluctantly.

It's okay.

You just hope that now that you've set things straight, she will not take it against you for marrying someone else. She doesn't have to like whomever becomes your husband, but it is the security you two need to stay in England.

Without a spouse you can't do your radius experiment; instead you go to the next party being held in the manor. Same arrangement, only this time, there were stimulants available to the party guests. And because there were other people who lead the liveliness of the party, you could get away with the bare minimum of socializing.

You still danced your heart away though. This time with multiple male partners who you knew were bachelors.

Good exposure but you felt that none of them were a suitable spouse to your needs. These were young men that had high libidos and loved being in control. None of them would do no matter how excellent dancers and conversationalists they are.

You observe the occultists that were present. To someone who wasn't looking, it seemed they were aloof and preferred to watch from the sidelines.

But that's not what you see.

You see their eyes hold a hunger and excitement that they reigned in. You could even feel some of them look at you with lust as you looked curiously at them.

They weren't being aloof. They were waiting for their targets to be exhausted before they joined in and claimed them as prey.

Perhaps you could use this as an advantage.

Not to marry one of them, but to check if they have magical barriers also in their minds that you should be aware of.

'Be careful ma'am' You can hear the disapproval Jessamy has with that idea. She may not like that you were expressing some amount of interest in other people, but in this case it was really necessary.

Besides, you don't have to actually do anything.

You manage to pair off with one of the occultists. And you manage to convinced him that you two should be alone.

In a place that was near the entrance of the prison cells.

Once you two were alone, you used your powers to manipulate his conscious thoughts. In his mind, the two of you were engaging in carnal pleasure and that he was the best lover you've ever had.

How predictable.

What was actually happening was that you were standing up while he was writhing by himself on the floor. While his conscious mind was busy masturbating his body, you were scanning his brain for any magical surprises and barriers that may interfere with your work.

The only thing that existed in his brain was a magical barrier for the subconscious. There was also the normal anti-brainwashing protection measures that was necessarily part of the subconscious magical barrier, but nothing so far concerning conscious thoughts.

Speaking of conscious thoughts, he was also a high ranking member. Not the very top, but close to there.

This was promising. But inconclusive as to what possible mental surprises those superior to him may have.

Once you've finally allowed him to have his release that was strong enough to bring him to sleep, you then proceed to be in a crowded place. There was an act going on and clearly some of the party goers decided to put on an impromptu show. You hide yourself in the shadows pretending to be drunk and passed out. When you weren't bothered for awhile, you then reached out to Jessamy. You wanted to test if you could still hear him as clearly if you were amidst very stimulated and very conscious minds. You may be farther from him than last time, but you were closer to your source of power. You felt Jessamy there. She has been waiting awhile but you also sensed that she and Morpheus had been talking while waiting for you.

'Can you still hear me through Jessamy?'

'Yes I can. Jessamy has been telling me what you two have learned so far.'

'I want to try something, if it is fine with you. I would like to try to contact you directly from where I am.'

'You're not in the same place as last time?'

'No, I'm further away. But I'm closer to the party, the source of my power to talk with you.'

'Oh I don't mind being a conduit ma'am.'

'Jessamy we need to test this so that I can prioritize your safety.'

'She's right Jessamy. The people here have seen you flying nearby a couple of times. I've not given them any indication that we know each other, but they are starting to suspect you.' With reluctance you feel Jessamy pull away.

You take a breath and redirect your energy. This time instead of sending your thoughts to Jessamy, you send it to Morpheus.

'If you can hear me, tell Jessamy without responding to this directly.' Not long after, you feel Jessamy make confirmation that you've made contact with Morpheus.

'Am I as clear to you as I was to Jessamy?'

'You are actually clearer to me now than when you were using Jessamy as a conduit.'

'She's been very excited at the possibility that you might be getting out right away. No matter how many times I've told her that if we are doing this safely, it will be far longer than what she's been expecting.'

'And you? Given the last time we've spoke...are you also excited when I will be free?' Of all the questions he had to ask now, it had to be that one.

'Of course, no one deserves to be imprisoned and to have their freedom deprived from them. You know my stance in that.' You can feel an uncertainty in his conscious thoughts.

'Do you still hate me?'

'No. No, I don't hate you anymore.' You could feel that his mood had lightened.

'But we can discuss that once you have been freed. Now is not the time.'

'Then how are you able to talk with me longer than last time?'

'I'm the one who suggested the stimulants in the party. The more awake and stimulated they are, the less effort I need to do.' You can feel his approval of your choices so far.

'What do Jessamy and I need to do to set you free?'

'Either find a way to break the sphere and the ritual circle containing me, or make someone fall asleep in my presence. Once they enter the dreaming, I can take over from there.' You ponder a bit before you feel your power draining.

'I have a question about that but it will have to wait. The party is starting to sleep.'

'Of course, and thank you for what you're doing.' You begin to shake your head "awake" but not before sending one last message to him.

'Don't thank me yet. It might be awhile.'

With this new information, progress seemed to be made. You were guarded in your hope that maybe you could free him.

Now all you need to do is find a husband who doesn't care that you're using him just to stay in England.

It was awhile before that happened. But thankfully you've managed to find one who meets your needs. He wasn't interested in women, and neither did he want to have any children to care for. He had already settled this with his family, and the compromise was that he should at the very least get married. You were concerned at first. You were more than aware of the antiquated succession laws that aristocratic families tend to cling to. But he assured you that there were enough legitimate and illegitimate children of the next generation that could deal with it. He made a clause in his will that whomever meets some arbitrary test that proves of the worthiness of the heir, must allow you to keep whatever rooms or properties that you have been given as wedding gifts.

As long as he could be with his male lover, he was more than happy to cover up for your behavior.

A part of you felt that the fates may be favoring you now, because of a price that you'll be paying later.

How little you knew that you were actually right.

Nevertheless, you managed to proceed to stay at an inn. It was a crowded time, so you were able to easily find his mind.

'About someone needing to be asleep within your presence-does it have to be human?' He contemplates first, before replying.

'No, as long as that being is capable of dreaming, then it would suffice.' An idea was beginning to formulate in your mind.

'What if Jessamy managed to fall asleep-'

'Jessamy is a subject of the dreaming-it has to be a being that is from the waking world.' Damn it. But then a thought came to you.

'This is going to sound crazy but what if I used Jessamy as a conduit and I fell asleep. Can you access the dreaming then?' He's thinking. But you felt the doubt before he told you.

'That may require a lot of energy on your part. Your powers are based on conscious thoughts. You might lose the connection to Jessamy as you fall asleep.'

'Even with the bond I've made with her? Can you try to reach out to our bond through your own bond with her?'

'Hmm, we can experiment with it first. Send Jessamy within the Manor grounds during the daytime and I'll try to reach out.' You had a bad feeling about this.

'Morpheus that's too dangerous. You said it yourself, Jessamy is probably known as your raven to your captors now. The more she's there without a plan, the more dangerous it is to her safety.'

'We'll have you. With you nearby you can keep her safe.' You ignore the part of yourself that jumped up when he said "We". You sense Jessamy arrive in the window sill. She taps into both bonds she has with you and Morpheus, thus effectively joining the mental conversation.

'I have a suggestion Lord Morpheus, what if the two of you formed your own bond? That way when she falls asleep, you can access the dreaming through her.' Oh dear, Jessamy clearly did not know what that entailed. The only two Endless who had this bond was their parents. And they never hesitated to emphasize that it is a decision that is not to be made lightly.

'Jessamy, a bond between the two of us would be something more deeper and permanent. It won't be limited to the psychic bond we share or that you share with her.'

'Isn't there a way to make it temporary? And what if the bond is limited to this lifetime?'

'I could ask the fates about it. But I'm not sure what offerings they will want from me-besides if all else fails, I'll just sneak in there, pretend to be drunk and fall asleep on front of you.' You feel him shake his head. And to your surprise you feel some anxiety from him.

'Too risky, I would not have you risk your life for me like that.'

'Then I'll use my powers to make myself invisible in their minds.'

'Until you fall asleep, and by then you would just get yourself killed on front of me.' More anxiety coming from him, this time paired with nervousness. Admittedly today hasn't been the most productive of days. You were supposed to be able to have a plan, but it seems you were stuck.

'Ma'am what if you used your powers to put them to sleep? Like how you gave that occultist guard a-'

'Jessamy, I think all of the other occultists would be very suspicious about all of their guards suddenly having sexual fantasies and passing out from their release.'

'But wouldn't that put them to sleep and Lord Morpheus could enter the dreaming.'

'No, she has a point. Not only would it bring harm to her, but the risk is too high even if the end result would be me escaping. The other guards would be on high alert and would hunt her down.'

'Besides I was lucky that one time. Not all men sleep upon release.' You were getting frustrated, you were getting nowhere with this.

'Can't you use your powers to make them drowsy ma'am?'

'I could, but it's not going to take them to the dreaming. Their mind has a magical barrier guarding their subconscious thoughts. For people to get into the dreaming, those should be unlocked. At most its going to be a very light almost laughably shallow nap.'

'I wouldn't say it is laughable.'

'Don't mock me right now Morpheus.' You say exasperated before taking a breath.

'Then it's back to basics. Study their habits, guard patterns, and everything and anything relevant to breaking you out.' You sigh sadly. If only there was some way to subtly make the guards fall asleep. But to do that you'll have to unlock the magical barriers in their minds. Too much energy. You'll need a party for that. You feel Jessamy slip away from your mental conversation.

'Get some rest' but it seems he still wants to talk.

'How can I when it feels I'm doing nothing?'

'You are doing more than I've ever expected for you to do. How can you not see that?' Is he being serious right now?

'Well for one thing, you're still imprisoned. And I just realized that it has been 4 years now and we're still not getting anywhere. And I don't want to send Jessamy there during the daytime because they will for sure hunt her down.' You take a breath. You calm yourself down before continuing.

'What do you have against me just sneaking down there and sleeping within your presence? It seems pretty straight forward if you ask me.'

'Have you not been listening to me earlier?' You can hear he was upset and hints of the anxiety and nervousness creep back in.

'You'll die.'

'I'll be dying anyway. It's part of my job.'

'Not if I can help it.'

'What's the difference in me dying later and me dying to set you free?' No answer, its been awhile since you have no response from him.

'You need rest. You need to regain your energy.' You feel him sigh but before you leave he still has something to say.

'I can't stop you if you really want to proceed with your plan. But it would cause me great pain to see you die on front of me.' You feel him leave, and once again you were all alone in your thoughts.

After a night's rest, it turns out to your frustration Jessamy was more stubborn than you realized.

"You've been going there in the daytime!?" You shriek as you see her land on the window sill clearly coming from the direction of the Burgess Manor.

"I've been careful, and just observing." You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose trying to keep yourself calm.

"How was I not aware of this despite our bond?"

"Well ma'am you're not a morning person in this lifetime. So I thought since I don't want to disturb your deep sleep, and it was during the early part of the morning wherein you really wouldn't wake up, I decided to be more proactive in our mission." Her voice shrinks, she knows you're very upset.

"How long has this been going on?"

"...Awhile" About 3 months based on her thoughts.

"Does Morpheus know?"

"I've just been observing the habits of the residents there that's all. I haven't tried making contact with Lord Morpheus yet." You're not sure whether this was good news or bad news.

You look at her with a disapproving look.

"Jessamy, I am just as frustrated as you are that we still haven't freed him yet. But I promised him I would also keep you safe. And I can't do that unless you tell me what you've been doing."

"I know, I'm sorry" You don't have to tap into her thoughts or your bond to know how remorseful she is. You take a breath, then you open your enchanted diary.

"Have you at least been recording what you've learnt?"

"...no"

"Okay, I'm upset yes. But I would not have you risking your life in vain."

"Yes ma'am." She then hops onto the blank page of the diary.

"It's the boy ma'am, Alex Burgess. He's not seen by his father. Roderick Burgess neglects him all in his quest to bring his first son back. He could be a potential ally if given the chance." Something about this makes you uneasy. You were all too aware of sons under pressure to gain the approval of their fathers.

This didn't sit well with you.

But then again, who were you to dictate what choices anyone could make.

Despite all your efforts to be careful, if you couldn't stop Jessamy from going there in the day time, the least you could do is to accompany her and cover her tracks. Morpheus too was concerned, but similar to you he was in no position to stop her.

Soon, you almost drained your energy putting concealment illusions on her. She didn't also always tell you whenever she was going to spy on Burgess. Much like before she had a tendency to take advantage of when you were in a deep sleep. And as predicted by you, she was eventually spotted and made a target by Burgess.

The first time this happened, you couldn't help but feel like a failure.

'There's nothing to apologize for. You've learned by now that no matter what you'll tell her if she thinks it will help you, she will do so no matter what.'

'Still, you've made me responsible for her. It's one thing for me to die, I know I'll be reborn again sometime in the future. But if she -'

'Don't think about that. Your thoughts have more power than you've realized.' You feel like he wanted to say more, but he held back for some reason you couldn't quite grasp.

'You need to rest. Jessamy knows the risks. We've both told her and she's not stopping anytime soon. You've nearly drained yourself giving her as much concealment as you could.'

'Out of curiosity, how have you not punished her whenever she defies you?'

'I've sternly warned her before, and after that she at least consults me first before doing anything.' And before you know it you felt yourself going into sleep.

Soon before you realized it, it has been ten years since his imprisonment. Your husband has paid the inn owners a substantial amount of money to allow you to keep the room that was more of your home than the bedroom in your husband's mansion. The tests of Morpheus reaching out to the bond you shared with Jessamy gave all three of you a glimmer of hope that perhaps Jessamy could be a conduit to you falling asleep and Morpheus could enter the dreaming through your bond with Jessamy.

The plan was that you would conceal Jessamy as she infiltrated and caused a distraction. Once she reached Morpheus, she would fly on top giving her safety from the ground should she have any followers. Morpheus would reach through his bond with Jessamy into your bond with her as you fell asleep from your bed in the Inn. He would then be in the dreaming and could escape.

You couldn't help but feel something was about to go wrong.

Sometimes you really wished that you were wrong sometimes.

It was because of this feeling that some nights before the planned escape mission, you requested the three of you have one last mental chat.

'I don't like this feeling, but I have a feeling something is going to go wrong. I can't figure out what it is. And I really wish my feelings were wrong this one time.' You look worriedly at Jessamy. For all the heartache and disagreements you two have had, you really don't want anything to happen to her.

'Ma'am we've planned it out carefully, and you even nearly died concealing me.'

'Jessamy, this isn't going to be like our previous encounters.'

'You're right ma'am, Lord Morpheus will finally be free.'

'Jessamy' You can tell that his feelings were similar to yours. But you also felt hope mixed with desperation from him.

'Lord Morpheus, what's life without a little risk? I know both of you are concerned. And sometimes I am impulsive and don't tell either of you what I've been doing, but if anything happens...just know that I'm glad to have been close with both of you.'

'Jessamy' You feel yourself begin to tear up.

'I know' She gives you a sad smile. So she knows too that something might happen to her specifically.

'I know we haven't been friends for a long time. But is it strange that I sometimes like to think of you as a mother. Ever since we met in Quebec you've always been looking out for me and risking your life for me. I don't know why it feels so different when other people have also been caring for me that way. With you ma'am it just feels different. Is this what it feels like having a mother?' You couldn't respond. You didn't realize that you were too busy crying as you look into her eyes for possibly the last time.

'If you had to pick a mother, she would be one of the best ones.'

Then came the day of the attempted rescue.

So far everything had been going to plan, Jessamy was able to set a fire to distract the guards, and she's now on her way to Morpheus.

Maybe we could make it.

You began to feel Morpheus reaching out from his bond to your bond with Jessamy.

'You're here.'

'I'm here'

He was in your bond, you could feel it. You just needed to fall asleep now and he would be in the dreaming. But then-

"Hello there"

And you felt a knife stabbed from your back. The first of many stab wounds.

No

NO

You struggle to fight back by using your legs, but he has you restrained. And you know you can't lose your mental concentration now.

'Corinthian' You can feel his anger and pain as you try to hold on as long as you can.

No

Not now

For Jessamy

You need to remain alive for Jessamy.

You can die afterwards when she's escaped.

As long as you're alive she remains concealed.

She remains safe.

You need to endure the pain.

Endure till the very end.

Endure until they are both free.

'Lord Morpheus, she's starting to fade away.'

'Jessamy get out of here. She's dying, her powers concealing you will die with her.'

'No, Lord Morpheus we're so close. I'll just break the glass-" You begin to lose consciousness from the blood loss. You couldn't follow what happened afterwards.

But all you can remember was taking your last breath as you felt a bullet wound shot to your back.

AN: ...So how are you 😅 Trust me when I say I cried a couple of parts while writing this.

A few notes that I would like to mention:

1.) Fem Reader aka Life, cannot detect subconscious thoughts. That's not her domain. That's why she can't detect the thoughts of the Corinthian, because the Corinthian is a nightmare made out of subconscious thoughts (at least that's my headcanon);

2.) Jessamy before she established her bond with Life was the one who actively projected her thoughts to Life, that's why Life can "translate" her thoughts. After they established a bond this no longer was an issue;

3.) A friend sorta spoiled me on the Midsummer Night's Dream arc (not the specific details, but just why overall why it was the play Dream gave to Shakespeare), so I thought as an interesting juxtaposition is what if Life is responsible for Sherlock Holmes. The reason why I thought this was because it is so different from what Dream gives Shakespeare. That's not to say that there's no logic in Dreams, but Sherlock Holmes while it is a fantasy is also very grounded in knowing what is the reality is and how there's a logical pattern that becomes so astounding because its so insightful and yet so honest (or at least that's how I felt). And also because I'm a Moriarty the Patriot fan (which will inevitably play out in the 21st Century scenes).

Also yes, Twisted hearts was playing on a loop while I was writing this.

Please don't send me death threats 🙏I'm not yet a lawyer.

It does get better after this, but this was necessary.

#Beautiful anomaly #dream of the endless #morpheus #the sandman #the sandman netflix #the sandman (2022) #dream x fem!reader #dream x you #dream x y/n #morpheus x fem!reader #Morpheus x you #Morpheus x y/n #Morpheus x reader #Dream x reader

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super Manga ch.14-20

Okay, let’s look at the manga version of the Zamasu Saga. 

For openers, I like this establishing scene in the deserted West City.  The old newspaper celebrating the anniversary of 17 and 18′s death is a great way to clue in the reader that we’re in a different world, and just how different things are.

Toyotaro skips the part where Future Bulma dies, and I like this version better. Trunks just tells Mai that she’s dead and how it happened.  We don’t even know for sure that Trunks was there to see it.  He may have gotten the news from someone else, or he discovered footage on a security camera at her lab. 

Back in the main timeline, there’s this weird bit where Trunks’ teacher tries to explain alternate timelines by using Trunks’ own family as an example.  In this scenario, Trunks goes back in time and accidentally kills his own mother, resulting in an alternate timeline where he was never born, but his own native timeline is unchanged.  Then she realizes she was reading the wrong lesson plan and she was supposed to cover arithmetic today.  Okay, but why this example, though?

Meanwhile Bulma asks if Whis’ temporal do-over ability created an alternate timeline, but Whis says it doesn’t, because he just “resets” time.  I’m not sure what the difference is, unless he means like the three minutes where Frieza destroyed the Earth in Resurrection F simply never took place.  He didn’t take Goku back in time so much as he rewound time so that three minutes ago becomes the present. 

Anyway, Whis says this is why it’s only a three-minute ability, and why he can only do it once in a great while.  Otherwise, the temporal do-over would “upset the time axis”.  I think this is the manga’s way of saying that it’s not enough for a time traveler to just arrive in the past.  They have to actually get out of the time machine and make some noticeable changes before an alternate timeline would be produced.   

I think this is what trips up a lot of fans (myself included) when we try to figure out all the timelines in Dragon Ball.  It’s not hard to end up with a larger count than what the official sources seem to recognize.  When Gowasu shows off his Time Rings, there’s supposed to be one for each alternate timeline, and he doesn’t have very many. 

I think Toriyama’s theory with all of this in the Dragon Ball lore is that the “Butterfly Effect” isn’t strong enough on its own to create alternate timelines.  Stepping on a butterfly is a big deal in “A Sound of Thunder,” by Ray Bradbury.  In Dragon Ball, I’m not even sure that Trunks killing Frieza and King Cold was enough to create an alternate timeline, since that was something Goku would have done anyway.   But Trunks giving Goku the heart medicine and warning him about the Androids certainly created an alternate timeline, because by that point he had “upset the time axis” enough to do what Whis does not. 

Anyway, he’s some Super Saiyan 2.  I’m putting this in because in the anime version, Goku is supposed to be SSJ2, but they drew him as SSJ1, which ticks me off.  Toyotaro knows what’s up, though.  Seriously, why do people hate this guy so much?  I’m 26 chapters into this manga, and the artwork consistently rocks. 

The sparring scene with Goku and Trunks ends with Trunks powering up his SSJ2 form, which somehow surpasses Goku’s SSJ3 form.  That still sounds janky in my head, but Toriyama crossed that Rubicon when he had Vegeta surpass SSJ3 Goku in Battle of Gods.  The important thing is that the manga version gives Trunks some more credibility going into this arc.  He’s still weaker than Goku and Vegeta in this thing, but he’s not as useless as he was in the anime version, and so it’s less stupid when he rises to the occasion in the manga. 

This is an important distinction between Toyotaro’s storytelling and Toei’s.  There’s a genuine effort by Toyotaro to use the different transformations to explain how a character has improved or “caught up” to an opponent.   The point of this scene was for Goku to get an idea of how strong Goku Black is by finding out how strong Trunks is now.  And the manga gives us a general idea by having Goku use Super Saiyan God very briefly to get the better of Trunks.  The message is that Trunks has gotten a lot stronger since we last saw him, and that means Goku Black is stronger still, but Goku still seems to have the advantage, at least for now.

In the anime version, it felt more like the point was just to work one more Goku fight scene into the arc.  He used SSJ3 to overpower Trunks, then didn’t even bother using it when Goku Black showed up.  It reminds me a lot of GT, where Goku will just... do stuff during a fight, without any sense of a strategy or purpose.  The only true plan is to save the strongest transformations until the end, whether that makes sense or not.

Volume 2 of the manga ends with a bonus comic showing how things played out in the Future Trunks Timeline when they tried to use the Dragon Balls.  Gohan was trying to make a wish before 17 and 18 could kill Piccolo, but the Pilaf Gang had already beaten him to the punch, and made themselves babies.  Presumably, the Pilaf Gang made the same wish in the “main” timeline, which is why they’re kids throughout Dragon Ball Super.

I guess the main thing to note here is that this removes all doubt about Mai’s true age.  Her adult self in the Zamasu arc is so different from the one we saw in early Dragon Ball that I often wonder if they’re even the same person, but this comic establishes that they are.  I don’t think the Pilaf Gang should look quite this decrepit in this year.  I think Toyotaro used their character models from GT, which is set 22 years after this moment.  But then again, working for Emperor Pilaf is a rough life, which is probably why Pilaf made the wish for youth in the first place. 

Moving on, we get a much better depiction of Future Trunks’ version of the battle with Babidi and Dabura.  The problem I always had with the anime and the Kakarot video game is that they go out of their way to establish that Trunks has the Z-Sword for this fight, and it gets turned into stone by Dabura’s spit.   The implication is that the Elder Kai can never be freed now, because the Z-Sword is lost, except Trunks kills Dabura a little later on.  Killing Dabura should reverse the spell, restoring the Z-Sword to normal.  Yeah, it broke while it was made of stone, but that’s a good thing, since the sword had to be broken to release the Elder Kai. 

Well, Toyotaro took that into account, which is why he not only draws the petrified sword in pieces, but he also adds a panel where it bursts into flames!  Not sure why that happened, but it looks cool as hell, and now we know for sure that the Elder Kai is not coming out of that thing.  There’s a gag panel at the end of the chapter showing the Elder Kai with a halo just in case there was any doubt. 

Speaking of Kibito, he’s the one who fights Zamasu in his introduction to the story.  I have a strong suspicion that this was Toriyama’s original idea, and Toei took one look at it and said “A fight without Goku?  But what about the ratings?!” so they rewrote things to have Goku fight Zamasu and defeat him, which starts him down the path to cartoonish supervillainy.  And that’s fine, except it leads to some continuity headaches later. 

The manga is careful to avoid having Goku and Zamasu meet until they fight in Trunks’ world.   This is important for time travelly stuff I don’t want to get into right now.

Zamasu also learns of the Time Rings independently of the good guys preparing to fight Goku Black.  This Zamasu/Gowasu is just presented as a side plot in the manga.  At this point, no one suspects Zamasu of any wrongdoing, and there’s no indication that he has anything to do with Goku Black.  In fact, there’s a point where everyone suspects Kibito instead, because he said some not-so-nice things about mortals in the Buu saga, and that’s about as suspicious as any Kai has ever been. 

Anyway, Gowasu explains the Time Rings, and tells a tale about an ancient civilization in Universe 12 who invented a time machine.  So one of the spare Time Rings represents and alternate timeline created by that time machine.  So that’s why there was one more in the box what I had expected. The anime never bothered to explain this, so I’m glad the manga did.

Zamasu also learns of Goku and the Super Dragon Balls on his own, when he finds an illegal upload of the Destroyer Invitational Tournament on GodTube. Then he goes off to quiz Zuno about both of these things, and asks if the Super Dragon Balls could switch a god’s body with a mortal’s.  Zuno relays this information to Kibito, who informs the good guys, and that’s when they figure out that Goku Black is a future version of Zamasu.

See, this is important because this arc depicts Zamasu/Goku Black’s origin story.   And the anime tried to get cute by introducing a predestination paradox to it.  They had Goku Black follow Trunks into the past, where Beerus and Whis noticed his Time Ring and familiar ki.  Then they went to Universe 10 to ask some questions, and that’s how Zamasu learned about Goku and the Time Rings, which eventually inspired his plan to become Goku Black. 

And I like the poetry of that cycle.  Beerus investigates Goku Black, which inadvertantly leads Zamasu to become Goku Black, who then goes back in time and motivates Beerus to investigate.  Except there’s no starting point for any of this.  Dragon Ball doesn’t deal in predestination paradoxes, since they’re all about alternate timelines. So there would need to be a timeline where Zamasu became Goku Black without Beerus’ involvement, except there’s no scenario in the anime where that could happen. 

What else have we got?  There’s this scene of everyone hanging out and playing video games, which is cute but not too important. 

And the #kisscourse is in the manga, front and center, which pretty much proves that this stupid idea of Goku never kissing his sexy wife came directly from the brain of Akira Toriyama.  There’s no way this dumb bullshit made it into the manga, anime, and the dub without it being in Tori’s notes for this story. 

It’s still stupid as fuck.  Real talk, I think Akira Toriyama is a storytelling genius, but that doesn’t mean this was a good idea.  Even Babe Ruth struck out once in a while.

Let’s talk about the fighting.  One of the many dumb things about the anime version is that Goku and Vegeta go to Trunks’ future world three times, which is just incredibly tedious.   Throw in the bit where Goku Black followed Trunks into the past, and Goku’s little sparring session with Zamasu, and Goku fights the main villains on five separate occasions.  Remember how Goku fought King Piccolo twice, and that was it?  Rememer how Goku went to Namek and fought Frieza once?  Remember how those arcs were really fucking good and this...?

Anyway, Toyotaro clears away a lot of dead wood by just having two trips to Trunks’ world: One where they lose, and one where they win.  And much of the fighting is handled by Vegeta, which is nice because it justifies Vegeta’s presence in this mission, and it saves Goku for when it counts.  In this version, he works over Goku Black, and challenges him to use Super Saiyan Blue, but Goku Black doesn’t know how to do that yet, so it’s mostly Vegeta whoopin’ Black’s ass, which is great.  This is where he does the speech about only a Saiyan being able to make full use of a Saiyan body.  The anime has this too, except they stuck it near the end of the arc, when Goku Black had already beaten Goku and Vegeta twice before, so he had pretty much figured out how to use a Saiyan body by that point. 

Here, Goku Black takes his licks, then discovers from fighting Vegeta how to become Super Saiyan Rosé, and then he turns the tables.  The anime completely screwed all that up, and I think I see why.  I’ve been comparing the Zamasu arc to GT a lot, and I’m realizing that it’s because Episodes 47-67 of DBS were made with the same production sensibilities as GT.  The story took a back seat to the ratings.  They wanted Goku doing things in as many episodes as possible, and they probably wanted Goku Black to transform early on, both to show off his new form, and to job out Vegeta as quickly as possible so that Goku could take the lead and get more screen time. 

Because when you read the manga version, you find a lot of scenes where Goku’s either a spectator, or not present at all.  While he watches Vegeta fight Black in the future, Beerus is questioning Zamasu about his fact-finding trip to Zuno.  There was a similar scene in the anime, except it was rewritten so Goku could be part of it. But in the manga, they do this without Goku, and they don’t bother waiting for Zamasu to assassinate Gowasu to prove his guilt. Instead, the Supreme Kai simply uses his own Time Ring to see for himself, and he shows up to tell Beerus and Gowasu about Zamasu’s future crimes.

And this sets up a cool thing in the manga version.  While the Supreme Kai reports on what he witness with his Time Ring, he reveals that Goku Black has an ally, the alternate timeline Zamasu.  So while he’s explaining this in the present, Goku and Vegeta are finding out about it the hard way in the future.  It’s pretty cool storytelling, especially for comics, but it’s diametrically opposed to the core values at Toei, which is “Goku = Ratingz”.  The idea of having two plot threads in a story-- one with Goku on the sidelines and one without Goku at all-- is anatheme to Toei.  Kozo Morishita still runs that place, you know. 

So that’s why the anime version had three time-trips instead of two.  They needed Goku to meet Future Zamasu, and then come back so he could join Beerus in the scene where he destroys Zamasu in the present, and then sit in on the discussion of how that all works, and then go back so he could resume the mission.  It was all carefully constructed to get Goku in as many scenes as possible.  The fact that it ruins the pacing and makes the story more convoluted doesn’t matter.  “Goku = Ratingz”. 

So let’s talk about my favorite part of the manga version.  Why did this plan require two Zamasus, and why aren’t they both bodyswapped and immortal?  It’s actually very simple, and it explains a lot of about this arc, which is why I’m so mad at the anime version for never touching on it at all. 

Okay, so Zamasu wanted Goku’s body because of the raw power it possessed.  That’s simple enough to understand.  But when he got Goku’s body, he couldn’t utilize its full power.  That’s why he couldn’t transform right away.  And this is a major part of why Goku Black kept fighting Trunks all the time in the year before Trunks went back in time for help.  It wasn’t because Black sucks at killing Trunks.  Far from it.  There’s a flashback in this story where Black defeats Trunks and lets him go, so that he can fight him later.  He’s not just toying with Trunks; he’s using Trunks to train himself.

Throughout this arc, it’s made clear that the bad guys’ aren’t just settling for Future Trunks’ reality.  They fully intend to attack the other timelines as well, so they’ll need Goku Black as strong as he can get.  So they’re using this world for practice, working out all the details and giving Goku Black a chance to beef up before they move on. 

That’s why Goku Black didn’t make himself immortal.  He needs a vulnerable body in order to get the same benefits Saiyans get from fighting powerful opponents.  If he was immortal, he’d just stagnate at whatever power level he’s at, just like his counterpart. 

So what’s the Immortal Zamasu’s role in the plan?  He heals Goku Black whenever he gets hurt.  Remember how Kibito would heal people in the Buu Saga?  Zamasu has the same ability, because he was Gowasu’s attendant, just as Kibito is Shin’s attendant.  Goku Black had the same power, but he lost it when he switched bodies with Goku.  So he needed a second Zamasu on his team, one who still had his Kai body and all the powers that came with it.  And to protect his healer, Goku Black used the Super Dragon Balls to make him immortal and indestructible. 

It drives me nuts, because Toyotaro presents it all so elegantly, and the anime didn’t even try.  All you get are Black and Zamasu rambling about how one of them is the sword and one is the shield, but they never discuss healing powers or why they can’t combine Kai powers and Saiyan powers in the same body. 

Okay, so like I said, this manga has two stages of the battle.  After the Goku Black/Immortal Zamasu alliance is revealed, the good guys get clobbered and have to retreat.  Trunks uses the Solar Flare (cool!) which is a lot more believable than a bunch of Resistance bullshit.  In fact, you really don’t see much of the Resistance guys in this version, which doesn’t bother me at all. 

Black tries to locate their enemies, but he knows the Saiyans can suppress their ki, so he tries a different tack and searches for an absence of ki.  He locates Mai, then finds her leaving a sewer with some figures with no life signs.  So they attack, only to discover they were actually dummies under sheets.  Then Trunks ambushes them to cover Goku and Vegeta’s escape.  Awesome!

So Trunks has to hold them both off while Goku and Vegeta retreat to the past.  This is a lot like when Trunks powered up to... whatever he was in Episode 62.  Except this version doesn’t bother giving Trunks a new transformation that ends up not working anyway.  This version also doesn’t just skip ahead without explaining how he got out of this sticky situation.  Look!  He’s in a lot of danger here, and it’s a cliffhanger!  The next chapter will show how he gets out of this mess.  This is storytelling 101, and it astonishes me how Toei botched this so badly in the anime version. 

I don’t want to oversell the manga version of the Zamasu arc.  It’s got problems, but the anime version has the same problems, plus a lot of unforced errors that make it unwatchable in places.  So when you read the manga version right after the anime version, like I just did, it’s like night and day.  If you’re only going to do one or the other, make sure you pick the manga.  But if you insist on checking out both, you might want to do manga second, if only for the palette cleanser.

#dragon ball #dragon ball super manga #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #goku #vegeta #trunks #beerus #whis #mai #gowasu #zamasu #goku black #bulma #kibito #emperor pilaf #shu #fuck the zamasu saga forever

[la-scree]

Yua and G'raha: Why They Will Never Be Comrades

Before we get into this bit of Yua’s Lore and why it happens, I will need to bring up some Content Warnings. It’ll be marked within the writing but also I’m just gonna say it here as well:

-Torture and Murder

-Suicide Ideation

-Isolation and Loneliness

I also want to point out that it's okay to like very different characters compared to myself. It's something I have to say because Fandom will Fandom but I'm not gonna be an ass just because you like the ketchup cat. We got enough bullshit in the fandom and I'm not the type to piss in someone else's sandbox. With that said…

You’ve probably heard me go on about how Yua has issues with the Scions’ resident catboy and speak briefly about why she feels that way. While I have my own critical thoughts, they do not go as far as how Yua views him. Not yet anyway but his simps (derogatory) are driving me to the point of hating him so your mileage may vary. You’ve heard me throw things such as ‘gets aggro pinged’ when it comes to their so-called relationship but I never really put into a lot of detail as to why. It’s taken me a long time to put it into words so I hope this goes alright, especially since so many things have changed since I had last written things on this (2021) and now it’s 2024. But before I explain why Yua doesn’t have love for G’raha, I’ll need to talk about some of her time before her arrival in Etheirys and why that part of her life made her the way she is.

A Traveler By Not Her Own Choice and Her Own Mental Struggles

Yua has been going through some intense trauma that hasn’t been addressed in years. To be more specific, she has CPTSD due to her time during Persona 4’s end as well as her time in Synodiporia, a game on Dreamwidth where she was constantly travelling between worlds. Within the True Ending of Persona 4, Yua faced the goddess of Death, Izanami (and her start of somehow always getting involved with Death deities) as Hope’s Representative to show that Humanity can make its own choices. During the fight, each member of the Investigation Team took a hit meant for Yua and as a result, died and got ‘dragged to Yomi’.

Yua watched all her friends get killed and dragged to Hell. That’s not a small trauma, even for a Wild Card and someone still in her teenage years. Moreso because she spent a lot of time with them and grew close to them given her lonely life before Inaba. Yes they got revived but still, that’s a horrible thing to witness! And before that, Adachi fought Yua and was left frozen while he pistol whipped her and did his villain monologue. Think what happened in the original anime but the only difference is Yua managing to break free and stab his hand with a piece of glass. Again, a traumatic moment during her teenage years and seen currently by Yua’s fear of guns. 

It gets more intense when she was forced by beings called the Arcana to be a pawn in a game that will determine which would run the universe. And because of this, Yua experienced one of the very worst things that can happen to anyone: murdered then brought back to life constantly.

(CW: Talk of torture, death, isolation, and loneliness)

One of the worlds that Yua visited before the events of Syn happened was called Moebius: a sick and twisted prison the Arcana put the Travellers like her in as a means of punishment for telling a group in the previous world who they were and what they were trying to accomplish: it all depended on which Arcana was involved. The purpose of this jaunt was to make sure everyone dies…and replaced the original people with the Travellers. Or rather ‘overlays’ but nitpicking won’t help right now. And there’s another twist to this: there’s a time limit. If they don’t accomplish their goal, time resets and they would have to do this over and over again. 

Some of these loops Yua remembers. Some she doesn’t. One she does was when doctors purposely cut her open as a means of torture with no anesthesia and wide awake, being one of her deaths. Another time was where they cut into her torso, another was other travellers killing her, the list goes on. Every single time, Yua was murdered and the scars quite literally remain. And every time she was killed, the arcana revived her like it was nothing. Like her life didn’t matter. This was the start of Yua’s spiral, changing from the positive girl who would be open to anyone to being closed off and much more harsh. This also led to her feeling isolated from the other travellers, including other versions of the Investigation Team when they did not know she existed. Basically, every single person knew Yua as her male counterparts called Souji Seta or Yu Narukami. There was an exception (sort of) with a version of Adachi, being in the role of the Wild Card where he did meet a girl named Seiki. However, she died in a car accident as a young child.

So there was another version of Yua out there…just dead. You can see why this doesn’t help.

She couldn’t really hold strong friendships or connections except with Adachi (who will be called Herodachi so it differs) and Minako Arisato, the FEMC from Persona 3 Portable. Even with those, the isolation grew strong as Travellers would sometimes get stuck within various spaces specialised to themselves called dungeons. What’s in a dungeon depends on the person and their emotional state. Sometimes calm and other times hectic and dangerous. Typically, someone stuck in a dungeon needs help getting out from others but there are very rare exceptions.

Yua was the only one.

She was stuck in her own personal hell of isolation, loneliness, and making sure she didn’t die to Shadows. She pulled herself out and while on the surface, this sounds heroic and shows how strong and tough she is but it wears on her the more the journey goes on. Others are trapped in their own dungeons and there is always help at the ready, including Yua because that’s how she’s always been: willing to help others, right?

She was always willing to lend a hand to help another in trouble…but no one ever came for her. Yua had to pull herself out of her dungeon not just once but twice. And yet no one came.

She began to feel hollow. Even while talking with others, she started to feel numb. The one who noticed was Herodachi and after speaking to him, he noticed her eyes looking distant, losing their light and life. He knew what was going on. And it was his words that helped pull Yua back from despair. Not completely but a small step:

“Hey…don’t go Empty on me.”

Just like Cylva when explaining about Ardbert’s reaction upon learning who she was, Yua too was shown care and was undone. She broke down into tears and cried as he hugged her. Despite all of this, Yua’s traumas still remained. She cannot sleep without assistance and when she can sleep, there’s usually nightmares. She fears guns and doctors and hospitals by extension, refusing to be seen unless there is a dire emergency. She wants to be able to die without being brought back, having ideation thoughts of suicide and wondering if she’d find peace that way. She starts to look at Hope as a curse but she can’t bring herself to despair because everyone will depend on her. Her counterparts are typically male and the only counterpart who was in fact female is dead. Was she meant to be? 

Safe to say that Yua suffers from CPTSD due to this…and G’raha’s actions in Shadowbringers sadly made them much worse. Remember the phrase ‘The road to Hell is paved with Good Intentions’ because that’s what happens and the consequences of these actions end up with him leaving in 5.55.

(End of CW)

Fighting Back Against An Idealised Version

One of the biggest reasons why this will never be is that G’raha cannot take off the rose tinted glasses of idol worship. In the recent lorebook, a passage stated that as the Crystal Exarch, he spread the story of someone called the Warrior of Darkness based on Yua from the memoirs from Edmont de Fortemps and his own biases from when he and her went into the Crystal Tower. Certainly it didn't matter that she threw him into a tent when they officially met because he was playing around and hiding the sand she needed in a den full of ixal. Or that Yua only saw him like a co-worker; someone who was fine and that’s it. His plan was basically to summon Yua to the First, let her hold a ton of tainted Light until the right moment where he can try to be a Big Damn Hero and take all the nasty aether along with himself and die.

In his eyes, Yua Narukami can do no wrong. She is strong, kind, sweet, caring, and cannot do any wrong. To him, she has no problem that she cannot overcome. She’s the Warrior of Light after all, the pinnacle of heroism. To G’raha Tia, Yua is Perfect. And how does his hero take this mindset?

Very badly.

During every single interaction before Rak’tika, Yua acts antagonistic because he keeps trying to change the subject, always hiding something. He acts like he’s apologetic for the Scions’ predicament but Yua refuses to hear it. After all, how could she trust a man who kept her in the dark and refused to show under his cowl? From the get go, Yua refuses to be anything like an ally to him, bringing up during their first Occular meeting that he’s not being nice but rather trying to not fuck up more. When G’raha says that he hopes that there is some form of trust between them after telling her the troubles of the First, Yua wasn’t having it.

"No, I don't trust you at all because you're practically holding people hostage and I got no choice in the matter."

Besides the idol worship, she absolutely hates her ability to make a choice and her bodily autonomy taken away. While yes he does say something along the lines of ‘you don’t have to do this’, there’s no other option. Just the illusion of one.

Yua usually cuts through the bullshit and will say things as she sees them; this is why she never gets involved in politics because she knows she’s bad at them. Any kind of potential idol worship she sees from him, Yua quickly shoots it down until she sees the results of it after Innocence’s fight and G’raha’s attempt at sacrifice. In fact, she managed enough strength to call him a ‘fucking coward’ and that distraction was enough for Emet to use the Gun Spell. The kicker is that moment pissed her off not just because of the idol worship but what his ‘heroic sacrifice’ showed her: a hollow message.

His words meant nothing because Yua attempted to try and understand him after Rak’tika, asking what motivates him but he side stepped her questions. When the ascian Emet-Selch was more upfront with her, Yua trusted him more. Even to the point of falling in love with him despite knowing what will happen. It pained her to kill Emet but she knew it needed to be done because no one else can save the fucking universe it seems.

G’raha’s sacrifice would be hollow to Yua, especially since she has seen several others back in a shadow world stand against a death goddess. And to keep Yua safe, each of them pushed her aside and took the hits meant for her. She watched them get dragged to Yomi and die. The friends she shared meals with, fought alongside with, talked to every day, celebrated festivals with, made a genuine connection with…that caused her pain and made her flashback. And it made her more angry because G’raha basically spat on the memory of her dear friends.

Yua only rescued him because he needed to send the Scions back home but outside of that, she couldn’t give a shit less about him. And why should she after everything he put her through like holding all that tainted Light and messing her body up more, doing things that brought back traumatic memories and triggering her cptsd? Hearing about his time travelling in order to save this timeline and mostly her? Boy howdy was she reminded of those Moebius time loops. She refused to talk to him outside of any Scion meetings because she didn’t want to break down and get triggered every single time, instead trying to take care of herself. But her breaking point and the Point of No Return was after fighting Elidibus in his Warrior of Light form.

You’re Not Meant For This Place. Don’t You Dare Grow Here

When Yua learned what Elidibus was, her plan was to defeat him and make sure he returned to the star and rest. Also because a primal being loose is not a good thing as most know by now. Because of her own circumstances and thoughts on death, she thought it was best. It sounded like it was going to go that way…until G’raha did a Very Big Stupid Thing by announcing that he was going to seal Elidibus in the Crystal Tower and make him power it until he is no more. It’s a Very Big Stupid Thing because to Yua, it’s absolutely cruel to force someone that shouldn’t stay to be used as a battery. Not only that but saying that he was going to trap the ascian made her flashback back to her own trapped life in her dungeon back in Liminal. She refused to let it happen and she tried to stop him but unfortunately, G’raha was quicker and casted Break on her. It lasted long enough for Yua to witness Elidibus being trapped and the one responsible still standing. Well, close enough since the magic ended up costing his body to rapidly turn to crystal. Seeing the horror and pain in Yua’s eyes, he tried to speak up but he only got a look of pure disgust and silence. This was the final straw for her as she felt a deep ache, a familiar gnawing at her soul…a numbness. She had witnessed G’raha Tia at his worst and Yua was not going to answer to him at all. Instead, she turned her back to him, quite literally and left him to turn to crystal all alone. Yua in pain could only think of one thing even in silence:

Suffer.

Yua’s heart grew cold that moment and the Scions noticed quickly when Lyna handed her G’raha’s crystal vessel and asked her to keep it safe on the journey home. Yua in turn responded bluntly and with venom that if she didn’t have a soft spot and cared about Lyna, she’d smash the damn thing. It was looking into Yua’s eyes that made Lyna not say anything, seeing the pain…seeing the light dim. His actions made Yua relive her fears, her worst moments and how could she talk to the Scions about them when they never knew she was from another universe? The only one who had any inkling was Krile and that was more of a forced thing back in Eureka. 

Once everyone was back on the Source, Yua simply left G’raha’s crystal vessel to Krile and told her to do what she wished with it. She was going to take no part of what happened next and she was right. She didn’t want to see the face of the man who kept hurting her, even in the name of the greater good. It was bullshit and Yua would have shut herself in her house if it wasn’t for someone she had met while exploring Rabanastre and learning about Ivalice: Misija. Instead of the MSQ during 5.4 and 5.5, Yua was in Bozja helping Misija with understanding her ancestor’s role and to stop Misija’s former legion comrades from taking over. Didn’t mean they cared about the resistance but they had to work with them for their goals. It was during this campaign that Yua became more brutal on the battlefield, including breaking limbs of several Bozjan Resistance members who were nobles due to overhearing them belittle Misija and her origins. The other resistance members feared her but said nothing because this was the Warrior of Light and who knows what would happen if anyone pissed her off. Let’s just say thank god that Yua had both Misija and Estinien in her corner to pull her out of that despair.

It was because of them that Yua finally managed to gather her courage to do two things:

-Tell the Scions that she was Not Okay

-Challenge G’raha to a brawl

That second one is what I’m going to focus on for this since it does involve him. This may have sounded like something Yua shouldn’t do but she realized that using her words wasn’t going to be enough; sometimes you have to beat up a simp hard enough so they have to listen. And that’s what she did, even as he refused at first. But Yua wasn’t going to let him go until they settled things. No, she was going to make sure he sees and hears what she has to say. What happened was constant fighting back and forth with both weapons and words, both of them saying what they felt was right. G’raha tells her that he had no purpose, no hope, and did everything to make sure that the Source and the First wouldn’t fall and kill more people. That his life had no meaning and sacrificing himself would have been the best call. Only for Yua to tell him that she wouldn’t have seen him as such. Heroic sacrifices to her are never heroic nor are they noble; it’s just something to make the person feel good before they become food for the worms. Besides, if she can’t die, he gets no pass to fucking give up because of depression. 

After all, she’s had thoughts of wanting to end it all. She’s gone through so many horrors and yet people expect her to grin and bear it. She’s the fucking hero after all, a godsdamned IDOL. Who the hells does this pathetic man think he is?! And she tells him that she will never forgive him for what he’s done to her. She would leave the Scions if it came to it because fuck being in the same space as the man who hurt her and being told to smile and nod and be happy.

No. 

Fuck. That.

After this, G’raha does leave the story and stays as a Scion in the field. Yua never sees him again. Although I can’t say the same for other characters but that’s for another time.

I’ve constantly fought with myself since Endwalker’s release to figure out what kind of relationship would Yua and G’raha have. Would I follow canon? Would Yua be able to forgive him? Could they be civil? But the more people asked me about her story and seeing a lot of wolqotds on Twitter about the themes of their WoLs, I kept answering that Yua’s main theme was about Healing. Not really in the physical sense but rather her being able to open up about her traumas, being able to speak about her fears and make connections again like she did as a teenager. There’s no cure to CPTSD but having a good support system might help her in the right direction. I bet some who are reading this might be asking about forgiveness being needed to heal and move on. That in order to love, one needs to let go and forgive the one who wronged them. However, this is Yua’s story and in her case, she doesn’t need it. Forgiveness is earned and it’s not up to the person who wronged her but up to Yua. Being unable to forgive is not an evil thing. She has moved on and is slowly letting go of the pain G’raha caused by being able to talk about it and express her own feelings. She takes what she has learned and tries to do the things like communicate with people about her thoughts and feelings.

Yua feels loved with her group of friends and loves and small family. She felt seen and heard and not given empty reassurances. She didn’t need to forgive someone who has hurt her to move on and feel like a person again. Someone does not need to forgive the people who have hurt them in order to move on and live a better life. Healing also means doing what is best for the person, including self-love and not offering forgiveness. And it’s something Yua is finally able to do.

#ffxiv #ffxiv wol #yua narukami #yua lore #g'raha fucked up big time #g'raha tia #cw: torture mention #cw: murder #cw: isolation #cw: suicidal ideation

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

And Eat It, Too - Chapter Three: Double-Stitched

In which Georgie rocks, Jon is marked by the Slaughter, Elias is a bigger bastard than usual, and Michael tries its hand at some nifty new surgical techniques...

>>> NOW ON AO3!

Bastard Elias warning.

Slaughter-typical violence.

(Masterpost including playlist)

*

CHAPTER THREE

Going to work is the last thing he wants to do right now.

Jon wants to find the “last resort” Gertrude supposedly left behind.

Jon wants to avoid his coworkers, who no doubt hate his guts and will believe nothing he says.

Jon wants to go back to bed and sleep, except that will mean traveling through other people’s dreams again, watching their suffering.

Two were missing last night. He knows what that means. It means they died. The Fears finally caught them.

He’s ill as he tries to explain to Georgie what happened over toast and tea.

Not last night. No. He won’t touch that. She may not be able to feel fear, but he knows she’d call him an idiot, and she’d be right.

“What good are all these eye powers if nobody could find you for a month?” Georgie says.

“I’m still not completely sure they couldn’t,” Jon mutters. “Elias might have just left me there.”

Georgie looks suitably horrified. “You could have died.”

“Welcome to my life.”

“Jon. Quit. I keep telling you—”

“You know I can’t. We can’t. None of us can. It… it’s been taken from us, somehow.” He sighs. “Besides… I have to stop the Circus.”

“It shouldn’t all be on you, Jon,” says Georgie, and the look she gives him is why he fell in love years ago, it’s why he thought he could make it work even though he was made of spikes and sorrow.

“Well. It is,” he says. “Anyway, I… still need to look for a new place today.”

She sips tea. “Careful. The last time you said you were moving out at once, you disappeared taking trash to the bins.”

Kidnapped again, is what she isn’t saying. “Well, that was hardly my plan, was it?” he says.

“I don’t know. Was it?” And that look is why it did not work, and why their parting was less than amicable. “You weren’t being careful.”

“I didn’t know they were going to do that!”

“I think you should expect it, by now. Make your default mode going to be kidnapped.” She sips her tea. “I haven’t seen a lot of wise choices from you since you got here, Sims.”

Jon sighs. Definitely not telling her about last night. “I’m sorry, Georgie. About all of this.”

“Well, I’m not.” She clears the plates. “Let me know where you move.”

“No. You don’t deserve to be dragged any further into this.”

She plants her hands on the table and leans into his face. “Don’t insult me,” says Georgie Barker, What the Ghost podcast host, once the love of his life, and now the only person he truly counts as a friend. “You’re not the only one who gets to make choices here.”

“Now who’s making unwise decisions?”

“Not me. I’m not the one late for work.” She pauses, putting dishes in the sink. “If you’re gone before I get back, at least… feed the Admiral one more time. Put the key in the mail slot.”

“I will.” I still love you, but not like that. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” She doesn’t look at him again before leaving to dress for work.

#

It’s later that day that Jon realizes he can read French.

But he can’t read French. He was always rubbish at other languages, lacking the focus (or whatever magic it requires) to think through words in something other than his mother tongue.

But that didn’t stop him from reading and living François Deschamps’ recollection of the shit-show that was The Corruption seducing Benoît Maçon, filling him with bugs crawling out from under his fingernails and bliss he never realized was false as he let the thing consume him from within and become, become, become.

Jon read it. In French. And didn’t even notice.

It takes him a moment, but Jon decides this falls into creepy more than it does useful.

At least he knows where Gertrude went from there. Her laptop was finally proving itself worth the effort it took to crack.

New Zealand. Huh. “Right,” he mutters, scribbling notes. “Date range and country—maybe we can find something, some statement showing where she—”

“Jon?”

Jon hunches.

He’d managed to avoid everyone so far, but sure enough, Martin tracked him down. (In his office. Not much of a hiding spot.)

And he brought tea. “I… hello.” Martin inches in, stepping so quietly for such a large man, and places the tea on the desk.

“Martin,” says Jon softly, already feeling awful, the guilt from months of stalking and paranoia just lingering like disease.

Martin suddenly bursts. “I’m so sorry, John, I – Elias didn’t even tell any of us that you’d been kidnapped. I didn’t know –”

This is worse.

Jon raises his hands. “It’s all right! Martin, it… Elias didn’t tell anyone. There’s no way you could have known, and I wasn’t exactly here before, anyway.”

“No, you weren’t.”

It’s weird, that confirmation. Jon half-wanted the lie of social acceptability, the denial of his bad behavior, but Martin didn’t do that.

Jon decides that’s good.

“I mean,” Martin suddenly continues, “I’m sure you would have been, if you could.”

Jon makes a sound. He doesn’t deserve that grace.

“Are you all right? They… didn’t hurt you?”

Jon touches the bruises on his chin, hidden by poor lighting and dark skin. Thinks of warped calliope music, choking on a spray of water, plastic hands and violation. “No, I… I’m okay,” he lies, desperately searching for words, and suddenly has to laugh. “I mean, my skin’s in better condition than… ever. Is that… a weird thing to say?”

“A bit?” says Martin.

Jon could hug him right now. “It was basically all she talked about,” he says, floodgates opening with foolishness and enthusiasm. “Orsinov. I… it was…”

Martin’s face is a journey.

Don’t be so honest, Sims, he upbraids himself, lessons he learned as a child and has apparently forgotten now. “How has everyone been?” he asks instead.

And it’s about what he thought.

Tim is not okay. That’s an ache almost as bad as Sasha, except as long as Tim’s alive, maybe he can fix it.

Melanie (damn you, Elias, for hiring her) is a mess, subtly mutinous.

Basira is vibing. Who knew?

“And I don’t know where Daisy is, and that’s fine by me,” says Martin with the sweetest vindictiveness Jon has ever heard.

“All right.” Questions bubble, trying to burst from him like cooking oil, but he keeps himself to just one more. “Martin, does the rest of the Institute even know what’s going on down here?”

“Not really? I mean, Tim’s been going on about it to anyone who listens, but they just think he had a bit of a breakdown. I mean, they can quit.”

Jon sighs.

And then Martin talks about someone named Hannah whom Jon’s never seen in his life leaving to have her baby, and something about a milk incident in the breakroom, and he is lost, lost, and wonders if this is how people feel when they talk to him.

Martin seems to sense it and jumps back on topic. “So, are you coming back?”

New Zealand, Jon thinks. “I… I’m not sure. I may have to travel. Sort of a treasure hunt.”

“Oh?”

“In the sense of the world not ending, I mean.”

Martin looks exactly as shocked as Jon thinks is appropriate for that. “Oh.”

“I’ll keep in touch,” Jon promises, too little, too late, and then when Martin warms, makes it impersonal. “I need you digging into things. Researching for me.”

Martin’s warmth dims.

Jon misses it. “Um. Here. Anywhere in mid-2014, anything mentioning New Zealand. Can you, ah…”

“Sure, Jon,” says Martin, taking the post-it and brushing his fingers.

Martin goes red, stammers something indecipherable, and runs out of the office.

Jon stares at the door. “All right.”

At least Martin doesn’t hate him.

Jon doesn’t know why. Martin should. But he doesn’t.

Jon takes up all the statements he can find on the Spiral, and turns the tape recorder on.

#

Jon did not go to see Elias, and now, it’s far too late. Past eight; he’s missed his chance to look for a new place to live, too, and he’s kicking himself for it.

“Couldn’t just leave at a reasonable hour, could I,” he mutters, packing his things away with unnecessary aggression. “No, I had to stay until dark fell, because that’s the smart way to handle this, that’s the way to avoid getting kidnapped again.”

Fitting, he supposes, to lose track of time while studying the Spiral.

So many victims. The horror of doubting everything, from whether they really found a child’s tooth in their coffee to their own actual existence. It’s about fear, after all—the slow and terrifying loss of sanity, with awareness, bit by bit—and sometimes, Michael shows up. He’s not the only manifestation of the Spiral, but he is memorable: a charming, handsome blond man, smiling at them and invading their homes and laughing as they go mad and then die.

Elias was right. This was a terrible idea.

He’s not right, and he can go to hell, Jon retorts, shoving it aside, and checks the cheap, prepaid phone he just finished charging. He’s proud of himself for remembering to pick this up on the way in.

(Not so proud of the fact that he thought burner phone like the spy novels, but it was thrilling at the time.)

His bank account is, fortunately, all right. Elias continued to pay him while he was on the run for murder. Go figure. Jon can afford a cab, and that seems a much better idea than dealing with public transport right now. He thinks he has enough for a deposit on a new apartment, too, if he doesn’t stay too close to the Institute—gods know, it’s expensive in Chelsea.

“Not fair, is it?” he mutters to no one as he stalks from his office, glaring around like an angry badger in case he runs into anyone else. “Not enough to deal with the end of the world, no, not enough to sleep with mind-eating monsters and dancing mannequins, but we’ve got to pay bills on top of it. Ridiculous.”

Up the stairs (maybe it’s all those Buried statements, but elevators feel bad right now), through the quiet, dark library, and he’s almost to the front door when he hears the shouting.

It’s Melanie. She’s screaming?

She’s cursing.

Someone is getting their ears torn out, anyway.

Jon’s hand is on the door. A step from freedom. He could just go. He could just do it—

“I’ll kill you!” he hears, and runs in that direction before he can think.

Her raging turns to true screams, and he drops his bag to run faster.

Rosie’s gone home, desk empty, but Elias’s office is lit, the door open, its glass shattered all over the floor.

The screaming stops just as he leaps in.

Melanie is on her knees.

She’s gripping a wicked-looking knife.

She’s also gripping her head, digging in with her nails so hard that she’s making her scalp bleed, and whatever she’s staring at is nowhere in this room.

“Melanie!” Jon cries, going to her.

Elias sits behind his desk, unruffled, eyebrows up. “I was wondering when you’d pop in for our chat. Pity you didn’t come sooner.”

What was this? What was this? “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing I would do to you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” says Elias.

Melanie screams.

It’s long, drawn until she’s out of breath, and then she just goes quiet again.

She’s cut into her own ear with the knife. Jon pulls it from her hand and drops it on the floor, relieved that she doesn’t fight him. “Melanie. Melanie, look at—”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Jon,” says Elias, who’s already gone back to scribbling on paperwork. “You don’t want her associating her current… predicament with your face, I assure you.”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

Elias sighs, puts down his pen, and steeples his fingers with a long-suffering look. “While you’ve been gone—”

“Kidnapped!”

“Yes. While you’ve been gone, she has tried to kill me three times.”

Jon blinks at him. “What?”

“She doesn’t believe me, you see—that my death would result in your death, and Basira’s, and everybody’s. Though the part of her that does believe considers it a fair trade.”

Jon looks back and forth, back and forth, out of words, feeling his experience being eaten by the Eye, feeling pleasure coursing through him as a sick and unwanted thank you for all the new horror, and turns away from them both, panting.

“What did you do, Elias?” he says to the floor.

“I showed her something she did not want to see.” So casual, backed by the scratch of pen on paper.

“Showed her? What, you… shoved… images into her brain?” Another power he knew nothing about?

“I warned her last time that if she did it again, I’d burn them into her memory,” Elias says in a near-whisper. “Well, here we are.” And he makes a genteel shrug, hands to either side, politely regretful with his whole body.

Melanie is shaking, crying silently. She seems completely disconnected, drowned in whatever Elias did.

Jon wonders if any of the Eye’s glaring gifts include setting people on fire.

“That’s more the Devastation’s thing, I think,” says Elias. “Now, we need to continue our discussion from last night.”

“We damn well do not,” says Jon, trying to lift her. “She needs a doctor.”

“She needs to sit in it and learn,” snaps Elias. “And we need to talk.”

“Go to hell, Elias,” Jon says, and pulls her up anyway.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Elias calls after them, but does not follow.

Melanie is hard to move. She’s stiff, unresponsive. Her whole body is a rictus of misery. And she’s panting.

“Come on, Melanie,” he mutters, knowing she can’t hear him. “Almost there. Don’t scream again. We don’t need police attention, or some… predator, drawn toward the sound. You’re all right. You can do this.”

She makes no noise at all.

He looks for a cab. No way she’s good for the tube right now, absolutely no—

Melanie attacks him.

She had a second knife somewhere (and he knew that, he knew that, some part of his Eye-brain knew that she did, but he’d ignored it), and she gets him deep in the shoulder and he goes down with a cry.

She screams at him, roars, raising both hands with the knife overhead like some kind of vampire slayer, and against the streetlights and cloud-dark sky, she looks completely insane.

Instinct curls Jon up, making himself as small a target as possible.

Silence.

He peeks.

She is gone. Off, into the night, who knows where.

“What?” he gasps. “She stopped?”

Did she go back after Elias?

No, he thinks. Even in her current state (and he knows somehow that  this madness isn’t Elias’ fault, but he doesn’t want to believe that, so he doesn’t), she will go nowhere near the “heart of the Institute” for a while. In fact, Elias’ proximity might be why she ran.

His shoulder is beginning to feel…not good.

Jon sits up, panting. His hand comes away very wet and very red.

“I leave you alone for a few minutes, Archivist, and look what you’ve gotten yourself into,” purrs Michael from behind him, sounding on the edge of laughter. “But then, I suppose you can’t be blamed for the Slaughter’s attentions.”

Fear leaps, juddering his already rapid heart.

All the statements he’s read flood through him, there and known in an instant, a half-dozen traumas in the blink of an eye. He swallows. “The Slaughter? Melanie? Since when?”

“Oh, I don’t know that,” says Michael, now crouching in front of him. His human guise is an insult, cherubic, still a large man, but far too innocent for the monster it hides.

Jon blinks once.

Michael is significantly closer without having seemed to move.

That, or blood loss is doing a number on him. I’m blacking out, he thinks, slightly panicked.

Elias has to be seeing this whole thing. They’re still on Institute property.

Jon knows he won’t be given aid. Not when all of this can feed the damned Eye.

I can do it myself, he thinks as he stands.That’s a lot of blood, he thinks as goes back down to his knees.

“It’s almost sad to see you like this,” says Michael, watching him with complete fascination. “Almost.”

“Either help me, or go away,” Jon snaps.

Michael laughs. “No?” it says, because both suggestions are funny, and Jon tries to crawl down the last of the stairs.

Melanie. He has to find her.

He has no chance of finding her.

The Eye could help him find her.

She’s infected by the Slaughter, somehow.

If he finds her, she’ll kill him.

If he doesn’t find her, she’ll kill someone else—or worse, infect other people.

Jon chokes and looks at his shoulder. Is he infected? Is he about to go mad, slashing at innocents?

“You do have some protections, you know,” says Michael, who has crouched again on each step as Jon’s achieved it, watching him at eye-height with the same unblinking interest. “A little wound like that won’t make you their servant.”

“Oh, good, I’ll bleed out with my own mind intact,” Jon says, and tries to stand again.

A car passes. A cab—

Jon couldn’t get its attention in time. Just raising his good hand is… a lot. “Ugh,” he says, and decides to lie down on the cold, stone step, facing the sky, and hope that rain comes to wash the blood away.

Michael leans over, ruining the view. “Are you done already?” it says, hair curtaining Jon’s face.

“If I say yes, will you go away?” Jon says.

Michael laughs, and Jon closes his eyes, riding it through, trying to find some place within it that doesn’t hurt so much.

And then Michael is close, so close that its breath tickles his face, and it has no odor at all. “You. Need. A door,” it whispers, and Jon falls through.

#

He lands in the Corridors with a thud and stares as a ceiling-door—yellow, of course—slams shut and disappears.

Or was it a ceiling-door?

Wait.

Is he on the ceiling?

Wait.

Michael laughs. “I do so love these first few moments, Archivist. I would keep you like this forever, if I could.”

His shoulder is throbbing. His heart is racing. “Let’s see Elias talk to me in here,” Jon challenges no one for no discernable reason, and then moans as Michael prods the wound.

“S-stop that,” Jon says. “It hurts.”

“No,” it says.

Prod, poke, stab.

Jon decides he has enough energy to roll away from it.

Michael stays crouched there. Blood paints its long fingers—his blood—and it seems more interested in him than ever.

“What the hell did you do that for?” Jon says with more courage than he feels, and then realizes what Michael did.

His shoulder has been stitched.

No, not sane stitches. That pattern means something, makes the eyes spin if looked at too long, but by gum, the wound is closed.

He’s stunned.

“I have made you speechless,” observes Michael, deeply pleased. “We’ll add that to the tally, shall we?”

“Wh… why did you…”

“What will you do now, Archivist?”

Jon scowls. “How should I know? I… I need to find Melanie.”

“You do know she’ll return on her own, don’t you?” says Michael. “She is marked by the Slaughter, but she still belongs to the Ceaseless Watcher. You only need wait.”

“You are not the reasonable one in this conversation,” snaps Jon, thinking of a victim who couldn’t sleep until her heart gave out, thinking of a priest convinced he was possessed because the Spiral tricked him into eating parishioners, thinking of—

“You’re very concerned with my dietary choices,” says Michael.

“You had no right to eat them,” he snaps. “They were innocent.”

“Innocent? What is innocent? I am fear, Archivist; fear of madness and delusion, fear that they create themselves. I only drink it, like a flower drinks the light. What is innocent? They create, I take. That is the natural order of things.”

“It’s wrong, is what it is,” Jon says, shaky, aware he’s inside Michael right now, aware that he’ll have no egress unless Michael lets him go. “Those people didn’t deserve to be driven mad and then destroyed.”

“Oh?” Michael tilts its head and smiles, smiles, its face splitting like some sort of alien’s, its darkness spilling out through its lips and its ears and its eyes and its pores until it is a writhing mass of smudgy black, veiling the human form. “And who, in your opinion, does? Not that your opinion will change things, you understand. But I am curious.”

“I am not assigning victims for you!” Jon says, pressing back against the wall (it’s papered, why does it feel like flesh, why does it feel like skin) and then lurching forward again, shuddering.

“Then you cannot critique my choice of them.”

How did this happen, how did he get himself into this mess, is Michael actually asking, will it take advice if given, would it ever stop taking people (Jon knows that’s a no), does he actually have the right to declare who deserves death and who does not—

“Archivist,” sings Michael.

“I’m thinking,” Jon says.

“Do you wish to sleep here?”

That takes a moment to parse. “What, in your stomach? No!”

“Then I shall take you away. If I leave you bleeding on the street tonight, something will just come and kill you. And that pleasure is mine, someday.”

Jon groans. Returning to Georgie’s now feels like some kind of defeat. “I don’t want to.”

“Oh, Archivist,” says Michael, having gone back to looking human. “I don’t want you there. You have to be quiet there, and I dislike it.”

“I said I’m not sleeping in the Corridors.”

Michael grins. Behind it opens a door.

There is a room. A fancy one.

It’s some kind of penthouse. High up, the far wall entirely of glass and framing London’s skyline, a stunning view across the Thames and a glimpse of Westminster Palace.

The only lights are ambient, from the city, and he can only see what’s immediately beyond the door.

Jon could not fight this curiosity to save his life. He has to snoop.

It’s largely empty, furniture wrapped in sheets, dark and cool and slightly golden from the nightlights of the city. Jon wanders to the windows and stares down at the narrow, tree-lined street without cars, across the glittering water, at the distant lighted places of government.

He barely hears traffic. It smells like nothing.

He turns.

Michael has commandeered one of the sheet-covered couches and lies there, watching him.

Don’t do it, Jon tells himself, then goes to explore, anyway.

The kitchen has more (and fancier) cooking implements than he could use for the rest of his life.

The bedrooms have the same glass walls, but darker, as if covered with some kind of film for privacy. They are also furnished, and one closet is full of clothes.

The bathroom is bigger than Georgie’s whole apartment.

He looks for a sign of who owns it, tries to determine if it’s someone Michael has killed, tries to find any indication of what the hell this is.

Nothing. He storms back out. “What is this?”

“It belongs to one of us who is.”

“You’ll have to explain better than that.”

“The worker-of-clay is gone, Archivist,” says Michael, and its tone is bad again, its tone bitter, like when it told its story in the Circus,  and Jon listened without breath. “When Gertrude succeeded, and the altar to me fell, he tore out his veins to dissolve himself in crimson mud, and all we had built was scattered. Some of us were cast to all the places that aren’t. Some… survived, though Sanikov Land did not. One of those who lived owns this place. I asked, and he has given it to me.”

“Given it to you? What—someone touched by the Distortion has a job?” Jon has no idea why that didn’t occur to him before. Even Gabriel (the worker-of-clay, indeed) must have had a source of income. Still, it seems absurd. “I doubt you’ll be paying the property tax,” he snaps, fighting the sorrow he hears in its voice, striving not to know the regret and loss at the failure of its ritual, but he cannot help it, cannot push it aside, and he sits on another sheeted thing as he takes it all in.

It had been so happy when the Great Twisting almost came true. Weirdly, innocently happy.

Ivo Lensik's father, he reminds himself, fighting compassion. The man on the stair who wasn’t there. Deborah Madaki and her entire sculpting class.

“Do you think I deserved to fall, Archivist?” says Michael in a light tone.

“Yes,” says Jon, softly. “But I’m…” Not sure? “You’re evil.”

“What is evil? Do you blame the sun for for burning? The water for drowning? Lions, for hunting gazelle? I am a what, Archivist, not a who—and cannot be bound by your definitions.”

“Michael, that’s not true,” Jon says, frustrated.

Michael laughs. “That is a name.”

Jon puts his face in his hands. His shoulder hurts. He feels woozy. “Take me back,” he says, muffled. “I can’t handle your conundrums tonight.”

“No,” says Michael.

“Then I’ll walk out of here,” says Jon.

“Any door you choose will become me, Archivist,” says Michael.

“Why? Why would you do that? You’re trapping me here until I go mad?”

Michael finds his panic hilarious, apparently, and gives it voice.

Jon leans forward, breath shallow, riding it out. He’s almost found it, he thinks: the place to go where Michael’s laugh isn’t so horrid, though he’d be hard-pressed to explain it to anyone.

And Michael answers him. “Because you are not well. Because you will try to chase down a servant of the Slaughter who knows your face and blames you for her pain. Because you have lost more blood than you realize—believe me, your delirium is delicious—and while I will eventually kill you, I do not wish you to die tonight. You are far more pleasing alive, for now.”

Jon sighs and lies back on the sheet. He thinks this might be some kind of settee.

“Rest, Archivist,” Michael soothes.

This is suicidal.

On the other hand, Jon’s not sure he has the strength to go anywhere else right now.

The Eye will do its thing; by morning, he’ll be fine, wound halfway to scarring, blood renewed. Tonight, he thinks he’d make it halfway down whatever fire-escape stairway he could find before passing out.

Assuming Michael even let him enter the fire escape.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” he murmurs, and just to be stubborn: “I don’t even have my things.”

Michael dangles his bag. When the creature had a chance to grab that, he’ll never know.

An idea surfaces.

It feels awful. Worse than worse, like he’s betraying a friend—but like so many moments in his life right now, he feels he has no choice. “Could you hand me my phone, please?”

Michael does, the small, black rectangle delicately pinched between its sharp fingers.

Jon dials.

“Basira,” he says. “I’m sorry to bother you. Do you know where Daisy is? Right. There’s… something you need to know.” He rubs his face. “Please tell Daisy… don’t kill her. I don’t know what’s happened, but Melanie’s been infected by the Slaughter.”

(part four)

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #the magnus archives fic #tma fanfic #long fic #jonathan sims #michael distortion #melanie king #the slaughter #and eat it too

[samobservessonic]

Kitching & Elson are back again for this issue, not wasting any time on throwing us into the action. We get Johnny & Porker joining the usual duo of Sonic & Tails, who are heading into the Special Zone, which Sonic explains is an alternative dimension that can only be accessed via the star posts and his speed. I feel that we’ve also reached the point where Johnny and Porker may be getting established as characters, instead of just props - Porker being a nervous person is even hinted at here. They might still have their little animal designs, but I’m glad to see the team being expanded beyond just Sonic & Tails

The four travel through the Special Zone, with Sonic mentioning that he keeps the Chaos Emeralds in a “much safer place now”. Not sure where that is, but given their importance, I’m sure we’ll get back to that another time

We also get the introduction of another StC regular who I didn’t expect to see so soon… the Omni-Viewer! Which is basically the plot-device they use when Sonic goes dimension-hopping in StC. Like Zonic in Archie, but not a cop. StC also has another version of the Omni-Viewer for girls called the Ring of Eternity, but we don’t get to that until like issue 134 and we’re on issue 8, so no need to worry about that yet. I just think it’s funny that girls get their own dimension portal friend

Anyway, Sonic establishes that he already knows Omni-Viewer and they’re cool with each other. No idea how they met, but moving on

The reason that Sonic has brought his friends here is because he wants to show them the truth about his past with Robotnik. I love the idea that Sonic woke up today and decided “Right, it’s time that Tails, Johnny Lightfoot and Porker Lewis specifically all learn about my dark past; better go call my friend, the magic vhs player!”

The reason I didn’t talk much about Dr. Kintobor in the last issue is because I knew StC did a take on Sonic’s backstory at some point, I just didn’t realise it’d be the very next issue. The backstory that StC gives Sonic & Robotnik comes from the old Sonic bible, where once Robotnik was the kindly Dr. Kintobor, and Sonic was his friend who helped him with science experiments. This friendship came about because Kintobor was curious about Sonic’s speed (which apparently is natural and not a result of the chaos energy) and Sonic benefitted from the experiments making him even faster

It’s also during these experiments that Sonic breaks the speed of sound and becomes the blue version we know today

Sonic says that their friendship lasted for a while after this, so I like that there was a period of time where these two just hung out together as science friends. For some reason, whenever I think back on this story, I always incorrectly remember it as being that Sonic turned blue at the same time as Kinotbor turned into Robotnik

Speaking of that, we then learn what happens when you trip over a wire and fall into a machine powered by chaos emeralds while carrying a rotten egg…

…Dr. Robotnik!

I love that even his name badge (which Kintoor wore in his own lab that he seemed to be running by himself) got jumbled up. Also, my confession is that when I was a kid and a friend was telling me about this story, I straight up didn’t believe the part about the rotten egg, because somehow all the rest of this was fine, but that was what crossed the line into too silly in my child mind lol

The story ends on a cliffhanger, with Robotnik having used the Omni-Viewer against its will to capture Sonic and friends. This also calls back to Robotnik mentioning having set up a base in the Special Zone in an earlier issue Now, with this being our first two(?)-parter of the series, it probably makes sense to talk more about it after reading the full story, but I’m going to hazard a guess that the flashback parts are limited to this issue. Unless Robotnik’s going to break out his own additions to their backstory next time - I honestly don’t know. Anyway, I will talk about the backstory part now, if only to say that I like it. This old lore is something that I haven’t thought about in a long time and it’s obviously not still canon to the Sonic we have today. But even so, I like it! I guess I didn’t realise how much I liked it until now. Obviously, with so many more canon hedgehog characters now, it’d be silly to think that they all started as brown hedgehogs until an exploding machine changed their colours (although yes, StC Amy gets her own backstory about turning pink), but honestly, if you were including the likes of Shadow or Silver (or even Manic or Sonia) in an StC adaptation, how they got their colours would be the first thing I’d be interested in. It’s just a neat concept And in the absence of this old backstory, we have… nothing! Sonic and Eggman just know each other, but we don’t know how they met. Which is honestly fine. Those gaps don’t need to be filled to enjoy the current stories that we get about them both. Sonic and the others don’t need backstories in the games and it doesn’t bother me that they don’t have them. But at the same time, I do like this. I do like there being something there. And, while it isn’t a backstory, the Mr. Tinker parts of IDW Sonic proved to be a hit with some fans (not with everyone, but this is the Sonic fandom - no one agrees on everything) and that called upon a quite similar look at the “good Eggman” concept that Dr. Kintobor has here, before outside circumstances made him the villain we know today. It just seems to be a concept people are interested in

But yes, to wrap this up for now, I’m really enjoying that we’ve now hit the meatier stories that I have a lot more to write and think about. Maybe soon enough we’ll even get more than one Sonic story per issue to go with it?

#sam observes sonic #sonic the comic #stc issue 8 #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #johnny lightfoot #porker lewis #omni viewer #dr. robotnik

[day0walkersdrafts]

“This job sucks.”

Xavier agrees, in a way, but doesn’t say anything—sort of had to be glad he had any job at all at the moment. So he stands there, at the beginning of the queue, in that black security shirt, looking menacing. Tries not to look bored.

He glances over his shoulder a little, attempting to be inconspicuous. Somehow, he’d ended up at the front of the drummers line. They’d not even had time to meet. Something about him coming from the UK, jet lag, straight to a concert with very little time to recover. Right off the plane, drumsticks in hand. Played a phenomenal fucking show despite circumstances.

Besides, Xavier wasn’t going to be friends with the band. He was Lark’s friend—he was Matilda’s friend. Otherwise, he was just security.

Xavier’s eyes flicked from the skinny teen that was holding back tears as they held out a drumstick to the man signing it. He was unfairly attractive; his wild black curls were being currently tamed back by a black hair tie, but strands of it kept falling loose everywhere. He had a prominent, elegantly defined nose and thick brows. There were dark marks under his eyes, sleepless and tired, but had a smile for every single person that kept coming up. Replied with enthusiasm for every question, or every, I started drumming because of you or your second album saved my life. Xavier let his eyes linger a little longer on those strong hands as they twirl a sharpie before he has to straight to look at the next meet-and-greeter.

“No open beverages,” Xavier comments, taking the uncapped Starbucks drink from the poor girl and tossing it into the trash can. She looks wounded for a moment, before her face slips into a sheepish, small smile. She looks like she can’t be a day over twenty one, so Xavier simply holds out a black gloved hand. “Items.”

She passes over her poster, bought from the merch table and the CD. Xavier taps the rolled up poster to make sure nothing nefarious is in it and then waves her forward. Holds up a black plastic gloved hand so the next person doesn’t try and dart forward.

“Yeah,” he finally agrees, glancing to Benson beside him. “This kinda sucks.” The lanky blond is thumbing through a notebook someone wants signed. It’s almost falling apart, one of those composition notebooks that has stickers plastered all over it. He shoves it back to the person with no fanfare and then smiles at Xavier.

“Y-You get used to this.” Benson takes a cup from someones hand. “No open be-beverages,” he explains, tossing it into the trash can.

“Why the hell not?”

Xavier puts his hand onto the mans chest before Benny has to and gives him a gentle and firm push. It seems like its enough to cow him before he’s waved on.

“You get used to that too,” Benny smiles his big twitchy grin.

—

Eventually the venue empties and it’s the cleaning crew and the roadies clearing things away. Xavier’s legs are almost numb by the end of it, all that standing in one place and looking like a guard dog (having, sometimes, to be a guard dog about it). He drops into a little crouch to stretch his hamstrings, rise up slowly and touch the floor with his hands to stretch his lower back. Lets himself rise slow and feel a good, sore, ache travel up his body. It’s nice, though. Doing things, after so long of…doing nothing.

A roadie starts snapping the lines closed, pressing the clip to retract all those black dividers. Xavier flinches at the little sound of them, turning on his heel and bringing his attention right to the drummer—God, he’d have to place these names at some point. The little bassist kept trying to get him to trip up and call her something new every time.

He sits at the table, leaned back slightly, working his hands through an oddly ritualistic looking massage. Dark brows pinched together, lips set in a little bit of a grimace. His knee bounces slightly. He’s in a shirt that’s been shredded at the shoulders, reveals a lot of dark brown skin down his sides and those big, fucking strong arms. Xavier tries real hard not to look at them as he meanders over.

“Whew, long fucking day, huh?” Xavier shakes his own arms out, flexes his still gloved hands. The drummer glances up, brows coming in harder. His dark brown eyes trail up and down Xavier in a way that makes his brain stem tingle a little. Benson, behind him, snorts and helps the roadie with clearing away the lines.

“Must’a been real hard,” the drummer notes, still flexing his hands. “Standin’ there.”

“I’ve done worse—oh, was that sarcasm?”

“Astute of you.”

“Uh,” Xavier laughs because, he can’t actually remember what astute mean. Instead he looks at his gloved hands. Figures maybe he should start over with a handshake or something. He tries slipping a hand under the black nitrile glove, finds it a little too difficult. “Stood for—ngh, longer when—hm,” he lifts his left hand and slips a canine over the plastic, giving it a rip. He tears it off then, peels the plastic away and tosses it into the trash can. “Phew. Anyway, yeah, definitely done worse.”

Then he manages to peel the other glove off while the curly haired drummer stares at him. He feels oddly exposed under the dark, focused stare. Flexes his hands into fists and unflexes them again. Rocks a little on his heels. The converses are old, worn thin and nearly have a hole in the bottom. He’s too attached to them to get new ones—realizes he’s just standing there and saying absolutely nothing.

“You played a great show.”

“Your back was to it the whole time.”

“But—uh, it was a good show.”

Xavier clears his throat, runs a hand back up behind his neck. The mans knee still bounces, in a rhythm he thinks he could pick out and recognize—the drum solos were distinct and soothed a strange part of Xavier’s brain sometimes. They followed a cadence he liked. The band did not play his usual music—but they were popular for a reason. They were good. But he gravitated toward rhythms. His eyes stayed on that knee before he took a step forward, raised a hand to introduce himself.

“Eugh, will you like, go away?”

He feels a body sliding around him, making him go stiff and tense as the little bassist makes her way forward.

“No one cares, Security,” she sings, sitting on the table. She slowly makes her way across it, swinging her legs around until she’s facing the drummer and utterly cutting him off from Xavier’s view. “The talent is, like, tired.” Xavier can hear in a quieter voice as she leans forward a question about how long till you’ve slept and do you want an ice pack and he slowly takes a few steps backward. He watches her slide her legs so that the drummer is wedged between her knees—it looks weirdly intimate and makes him quickly turn around.

“Guys a dick,” Benson says when Xavier wanders back to him. He’s helping stack chairs, even though, this isn’t really their job. Benny suffers the same fate as Xavier—constantly cursed to be moving, to be doing something with his hands.

“The drummer?” Xavier prods one of the chairs till it fits snug and glances back to the musicians.

“Y-Yeah. Stay away from him,” Benny laughs, patting Xavier’s shoulder. “I tried to—like, hah—don’t judge me.” He leans in a little, shrugs and knocks their elbows together. “But, he’s good looking ri-right? But, shot me down.” Some strange, little cold fist clenches up inside Xavier’s chest for a moment, his eyes narrowing and cutting toward Benson as he darts around him. He flattens his hands and raises them apologetically. “I was—I was totally nice about it.”

“Yeah, I really fucking doubt it, Ben.” Xavier grinds his palms into his eyes, thinks about how tired that drummer looked, about that do you want an ice pack question and rolls his shoulders, sighing.

But, maybe it wasn’t bad advice. Maybe, Xavier shouldn’t look the gift horse of this job in the mouth. Lark had worked to get him that security certification, had helped him so fucking much. His hands rest on his shoulders, tired and sore and he resists the urge to look back to see if he might meet that dark focused gaze again.

—

Mouse slips her hands up under Benji’s jaw and tilts his head back and glares.

“I’ll kill you,” she threatens, but her voice comes out pouting and petulant. She swipes back a strand of curly black hair, flattens it to Benji’s forehead. “Sleep more, loser. God, you look awful.”

“Y’so good at makin’ a guy feel good, Mouse.”

“Yeah, I know,” she sneers back, wiggling brows up and down. Benji’s tired, dark eyes keep wandering around her, keep trailing after the red haired dog with his tail tucked between his legs. “Ugh, stop.” She shakes the chin she’s still holding, arching forward to take up his entire view. “I can smell the fucking weird on that guy.”

“Stop slidin’ all over ‘im you might not get such a fuckin’ whiff.”

“I’m tasting jealousy on your bitter tongue, poet,” Mouse teases, glancing toward Lark as he approaches. He, luckily, interjects before anyone has to linger on such a thought (only, because, Mouse realizes, it could be true and that would be bad because she had a sense the red head had more than just weird in that big fucking dog head).

“Sleep,” Lark says, pointing at Benji with some lead-singer authority. “Clean,” he says, pointing at Mouse with the same, listen to me or so help me I’ll turn this fucking tour bus around authority. Mouse slips off the table, her leg only half caught on Benji as she dances off him and pads away.

“Tell Benji to stop eying up your boyfriend,” Mouse says as she twirls away. “Before he tries to see if that guys all natural red.” She heartily enjoys the way Lark’s entire face turns into a mask of horror before she finds someone else to bother.

#xavier #xavier x benji #band au #: ) oh its their first meeting #and it goes #soooooo well

[jtl07]

Supercorptober 2022 Day 25: Comfy

“Comfy?”

Lena takes a moment to consider the question. The room she’s in is unfamiliar, and so is the blanket she’s wrapped in, the sofa she’s sitting on, the books next to her. The woman who asked has a smile that’s as warm as Lena feels, and that’s unfamiliar too.

“Yes,” Lena says finally; she’s used to unfamiliar.

The woman’s smile somehow gets wider. She stands, blonde hair and red cape flowing gently as she turns to another woman with red hair. This woman’s smile is not as wide, and that feels comfy too. “Thank you for the books,” Lena tells her, remembering her manners.

“Did you finish them already?” There’s a little surprise in her voice and Lena feels a moment of panic. Was she not supposed to? Something must show on her face because the woman kneels down and gives her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay,” she says; it reminds Lena of the way people speak to scared kitties. “I should’ve known to bring you more.”

Lena’s not sure what she means by that so she just keeps silent.

“Alex.”

Lena lifts her head at the voice. It comes from a third woman standing across the room. She’s the first one Lena saw when the portal disappeared, before the car had crashed into her, before the woman in the cape had saved her.

Lena likes her long dark hair, but she doesn’t know how to tell her - if she’s allowed to. Of the three of them, she’s spoken the least to Lena, but her eyes are the most familiar. Lena’s not sure why.

The three of them talk for a while. Their voices are low but Lena knows they’re talking about her. She tries to remember what happened, why the portal appeared, why it brought her here, but all she remembers is the garden and following a ladybug as it went from one flower to the next, counting to each spot on its back -

“Lena?”

The red-haired woman’s name is Alex, Lena remembers now. She had told Lena her name when she gave her the books hours ago. She said they were her daughter’s. Lena wonders if Alex’s daughter knows she borrowed them, wonders if she’ll get mad like Lex does sometimes.

“We figured out how to get you back home,” Alex is saying. Lena nods; she knows better than to ask questions, especially when she’s alone. “Before we do though, there’s something we have to do.”

The women are worried, Lena realizes, feeling it heavy in the room. Alex hides it well but she can see it, hear it. Lena shakes her head and curls into the blanket. “Lena, it’ll be all right, I promise -”

“You’ve found Lex’s books on time travel, haven’t you?”

Lena’s head snaps up. “I didn’t -”

The woman with dark hair sits down beside her. She doesn’t smile but her face is soft. “It’s okay. He left them there for you to find.”

Lena doesn’t ask how she knows. But somehow, she believes it.

The woman folds her hands together and rests them on her lap. Lena looks at her differently than the others do. And her eyes are so, so familiar.

“We have to wipe your memory or else it will create a paradox.”

Over the woman’s shoulder, Lena sees the other two women glance at each other. Lena wonders if this was something she was supposed to hear. But she does remember it from Lex’s books. She nods but the woman just keeps looking at her. As if she’s waiting for Lena to say something.

“Will it hurt?” Lena finally asks.

“No,” the woman says, her dark hair shaking side to side with her head. Lena listens as she explains about one of their friends, how it will be safe and painless. She explains about how they’ll send Lena back, how she won’t remember. Lena keeps her eyes on the blanket and nods her head at all the right places. There are bunnies on the blanket. Lena realizes she won’t get to keep it.

“Will I …” Lena stops the words but the dark haired woman heard them, and now is waiting for her to finish. Her fingers clench around the blanket. She whispers: “Will I get in trouble?”

“No.” The answer is immediate. Lena doesn’t know if she can trust it.

Slowly, at the edge of her vision, she sees a hand reaching out. It hovers over her own, then rests to cover her fists. It’s the gentlest touch she’s ever felt.

“You won’t be in trouble because no one will know you were gone. And, Lena, you won’t be in trouble because you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I must have - I didn’t mean for this to happen -” Lena’s words become choked in a sob and she tries to hold it all back, this isn’t how she’s supposed to act, she’s not supposed to cry, she’s not supposed to be scared -

It isn’t until her tears have stopped that Lena realizes she’s being held. She’s tucked under the woman’s chin and her arms feel so warm. She can hear the woman murmuring into her hair. It reminds her of a lullaby her mother used to sing her, before everything changed. Here in this woman’s arms, it feels like that time - safe, warm - what was it the woman in the cape said? Comfy.

“Do I have to go back?” she asks into the woman’s shirt.

Lena feels her pause, then take a slow, deep breath. She knows what the answer will be.

“Lena, could you look at me please?”

Lena sniffles once, then opens her eyes. Finds herself looking into those familiar eyes once more. So familiar - she gasps. More than familiar.

The woman smiles - proud, amused, relieved. “Figured out who I am, have you?” At Lena’s nod, she gives one of her own. Then her smile fades. Lena forces herself to listen.

“I can’t promise you that it will be easy. What you’ve already been through, that’s only the start, I’m afraid. But you have to believe me when I tell you that things will get better. It will. Don’t let anyone take away that hope in your heart.”

They fall into a hug again, and Lena feels the next words reverberating in her chest through her tears. “You will find the people who love you, the people you were meant to love. I promise.”

Lena holds onto the words as they separate, listens to them echo in her head as they let a man in black into the room. She keeps her eyes locked on her older self, believing, believing, believing -

Lena blinks. She’s in the garden and the sun is high and - oh, there’s a ladybug…

*

Lena’s quiet the rest of the evening, quiet as Kara flies her back to the apartment, quiet as they eat dinner, quiet as they curl up on the couch.

“You know, she barely gave me a second glance.”

Lena looks up, brow furrowed in silent question.

Kara tilts her head and gives her a lopsided smile. “She kept looking at you though. The way I’ve seen people look at me sometimes.” She takes a moment to catch Lena’s eyes. “Like a hero.”

A short breath puffs from Lena’s nose. “Kara, please. She probably just thought I looked familiar.”

“No, I don’t think that’s it.” Kara’s facing her fully now, though Lena’s eyes are trained down into her lap. It reminds Kara of Lena’s younger self, how the child had done the same thing just hours before.

“I think she saw in you the hero she wished she had,” Kara says softly. She reaches out to gently wipe away Lena’s silent tears. “You’re her hero, Lena. You saved her - and not just today. Everyday. Every day you choose the light, every day you choose love.”

Kara wraps Lena into a hug, presses a kiss and her words to her temple: “Thank you, Lena, for never giving up hope.” 

[Supercorptober 2022 prompts]

#i'm not sure how this one came to me #but once i started writing i just couldn't stop #something something we become who we needed when we were young #supercorp #supercorptober #supercorptober2022 #my writing